Tag!
by MBLite
Summary: First fic, rating for some naughty language now. And with the gala chapter 15, it's complete!!
1. The hand is quicker than the eye

Author's Note: Okay, this is my first attempt at a fic. It may turn into a Rietro, I haven't really decided. Two disclaimers: this is my interpretation of what it's like in Rogue's head after she touches someone, it may not be 100% accurate, and I haven't seen "Bada Bing, Bada Boom" so my version of Tabby may be OOC, it's kinda based on the versions of Tabby I've read here. Oh, and I didn't bother to try and type accents, so just use your imagination. Try not to flame me, I'm a sensitive soul, but if you've gotta, I'll try to take it like a man. Woman. Chunk of asbestos. Whatever.  
  
  
  
"This would be perfect if I only had popcorn," Tabby sighed contentedly, chin in her hands as she watched the action like a sit-com. She glanced over her shoulder as she heard someone talking, saying v's where w's should've been, and leapt up.  
  
"Blue!" she hissed, waving him over. Kurt bid Bobby goodbye, looked around, and then 'ported next to Tabby.  
  
"What's up, Tabs?" he managed to get out before she glomped onto him.  
  
"Just engaging in my most very favorite spectator sport," she said, sitting back down on the bleachers with one arm slung over Kurt's shoulders and pointing out onto the soccer field. "You don't have any popcorn do ya?"  
  
Out on the field, Rogue and Pietro were having it out. It had become a pretty regular extracurricular activity for both of them, as well as Tabby. The exact point of origin was unclear, but it had definitely escalated to new heights. A few minutes earlier, Pietro had whisked through the girls' locker room during Rogue's 7th period gym class, snatching her bra while she was in the showers. In its place, he left behind a little note written in her own black lipstick. "Kisses, my sweet! Love," and there he drew a tiny lightning bolt. She had stormed from the locker room- not before doing her makeup, of course- hair dripping wet, and hunted him down. The showdown took place on the soccer field, like all the others before it, but this time, Tabby had a front row seat. Now, Pietro and Rogue stood nose to nose snarling at each other.  
  
"What are they arguing about?" Kurt asked. Tabby giggled and shrugged.  
  
"Damned if I know, Blue, he's talkin' too fast and her accent's too thick. God, they're so cute when they're mad."  
  
"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Tabby, they're awfully close together."  
  
"Ah, you worry too much, Kurt."  
  
Before Tabby was halfway through her sentence, Pietro was moving, zipping around too fast for any of them to see. Rogue snarled in outrage at whatever he did and slapped him, knowing that he'd be in front of her again eventually. What none of them expected was for skin to touch skin.  
  
"Oh hell," Kurt said softly, then grabbed Tabby's wrist and bamfed over to the field, reappearing next to Rogue and Pietro as the speed demon hit the ground. "Schwester, are you all right?" Kurt asked. The expression on Rogue's face was a small war between horrified and annoyed.  
  
"Damnlittlespeeddemondon'tknowwhatthehellhethinkshe'sdoingforgodssakes  
  
why'dhetakemydamnunderwearthisisn'tfriggin'camp!"  
  
Kurt held up his hand to stop her tirade, then turned to Tabitha. Well, looked down at Tabitha, who was rolling on the ground laughing.  
  
"Oh my god, and I thought they were hard to understand apart. Jeeze, stripes, what I wouldn't give to be able to see into your head right now…"  
  
"Tabby, knock it off, please? This is serious! Pietro's out cold."  
  
"Ah, Quickie deserved it, the little punk. Check it out," she said, and plucked two leather gloves from Quicksilver's limp hands. "He yoinked stripes' gloves before she smacked him. Smooth one, jackass!" Tabby crowed, elbowing Pietro in the ribs. All three were startled when he actually responded.  
  
"Thanks a lot, Tabs."  
  
"You're awake?!" Kurt cried. "That can't be possible! Maybe you didn't really touch him, Rogue, maybe you just hit him and knocked him out- "  
  
"IwishKurtbuttherewascontactIpromisegoddamnitMaximoffgetthehellouttamy head!" Rogue shouted. She'd absorbed his memories, just like every other person she'd ever laid hands on, and now his voice was chattering away in her head, but unlike the others, it was much, much more annoying.  
  
"She touched me all right," Pietro said at pace sluggish for him.  
  
"Top o' the mornin' Quickie. Speedy recovery," Tabby giggled.  
  
"Oh, ten points for Captain Observation. I'm faster than you, hello? I do everything faster. Including make comebacks from playing tag with the Queen of the Damned over there."  
  
"Ioughtakillyourighthereandnowyouidiotic-" Rogue shouted at ninety miles a second. Pietro glared and grinned at the same time.  
  
"How's your head, Rogue? Any new voices?"  
  
Rogue's jaw dropped. Pietro slapped his leg as she stomped her foot and screamed.  
  
"Beautiful! Now I get to annoy you without even trying, and you can't get rid of me! That's priceless. I wish I could hear your internal dialogue right now!"  
  
"It'll go away in a day or two," Kurt said to no one in particular, handing Rogue her gloves. Pietro stood up and dusted himself off.  
  
"Is that so? Well, sleep tight then Rogue,trytoenjoythebenefitsofmy personalitywhileyoucan!" Pietro said, his voice accelerating as he recovered.  
  
"Don'tcountonityouhyperlittlefreak!" she snarled.  
  
"Look who's talking!" crowed Tabby.  
  
"Ooh," Pietro replied. "You'rekindasexywhenyoutalkallspeedylikethat. Well,Igottago,placestogo, peopletosee," Pietro blinked out of their view, moving to stand over Rogue's shoulder.  
  
"Sweetdreams,stripes," he whispered in her ear, and was gone.  
  
Tabby sighed, wiping tears from her eyes.  
  
"Ah," she said, getting the last few giggles out of her system. "Good times." 


	2. A Streetcar Named Despair

I just realized I forgot to include the standard disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evo or it's related entities.  I'm a bored geek, not a rich comics magnate.  In this next chapter, we see what happens when the lights go down and Rogue goes sleepy-time.  Italics indicate thought, but you probably did the math there.  There are references here to "_A Streetcar Named Desire",  _by Tennessee Williams, and I don't own that either.  I'm not sure who owns the patent on the "Smarties" candy, but it's still not me.  I apologize also for any… I dunno… glitches in my formating, I'm still getting' used to it.

            Rogue had had some quality nightmares in her time, but this one was unbelievably bad.  It was a standard high school dream, being in a play but not knowing her lines.  The lights were harsh and bright, but she was freezing           in a thin slip.  She squinted out into the audience, but it looked like the front row was empty.  She shivered, looking around the stage for something to keep her warmer and make her feel less exposed.

            "No, no no no NO!" shouted someone in the dark. "It's_all_wrong,you'renot _looking_likeStella, you'renot_feeling_likeStella!"  

            "Aw, hell," Rogue muttered as she recognized the voice.  Pietro appeared behind her and took a breath through his nose, smelling her hair.

"You certainly don't smell like Stella.  What is that, sandalwood?"  He was dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, a black beret on his head, and took a step back before Rogue could slap him again.  

"Don't be miffed, muffin, nobody likes a diva.  Come on, sit down, it's time for the others to rehearse now.  PLACES!"  he bellowed, guiding her offstage and sitting her down in the front row, taking the seat next to her.  She shivered in her chair as he leaned forward, fingers steepled.

The stage was entirely black.

"ACTION!" Pietro shouted.  The lights came back up, and Jean and Scott were standing on stage, about ten feet apart.

_"STELLA!!!!!"  _Scott roared, ripping at his hair.

"Ah have _ahlwahys _re_laihd _on the _kaihnd_ness of _stran_gers!" Jean cooed, her accent a horrible parody.

"Is that what I sound like?" Rogue asked, all her anger crumbling in the face of humiliation.

"Melodious, isn't it, now _that _is _acting._"

_"HEY STELLA!!!!!"_

"Ah have _ahlwahys _re_laihd _on the _kaihnd_ness of _stran_gers!"

            "Oh my god…"  Rogue whimpered.  "This has gotta be hell."

            She woke up gasping, like someone had just dumped a cup of ice water on her.  Then she realized that was exactly what had happened.

            "Sorry Rogue, you like, wouldn't wake up," Kitty said, shrinking away a little from the bed.  Rogue sighed.

            "Don'tworryboutitKitty."

            "Wow… like, Quicksilver really gotcha good, didn't he?" Kitty winced, setting down the water glass and  sitting on her bed.  Rogue took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out.  

            "Actually," she said slowly.  "I think that was the last of it."  Kitty grinned, kicking her bare feet.

            "Any like deep dark secrets Pietro's been keeping?"  Kitty was rewarded with a half-cocked smile.  

            "Nah, I just touched him for a second.  Sides, Kitty, it's _Pietro, _prince of shallow.  Darkest secret I'd ever find out about him would be a bad hair day."

            _I heard that stripes! _ A voice echoed in Rogue's head.  

            "Dammit.  He's still in there," she muttered.

            _It's like a damn morgue in here stripes!  God, I'm bored…there's nothin' to read, Anne Rice, Poppy Z. Brite, Bram Stoker…Victorian erotica!  Why Rogue I had no idea!_

"Keep outta there!" Rogue said out loud.  Kitty sighed and picked up a pair of earplugs off her nightstand.  

            "I'll like, leave you two alone."

            _Who needs dark secrets, stripes, you've got tons in here to spare!  _

            "Pietro…" Rogue growled.

            _Oh relax, it's not like I can **tell**__anybody!  God, the real me would give up Smarties to know this stuff…_

"I hate you, Maximoff," Rogue muttered, trying to go back to sleep.  The last thing she heard when she dozed off was,

            _I cannot **wait** to see what you do in the shower!_


	3. I'll never get over you getting over me....

AN:  Okay, people get a little outta character here.  But I gotta believe that even Rogue gets happy occasionally, as for Kurt and Todd bein' OOC, well, I have no excuse.  Warning for a bit of Scott bashing, but nothing too horrible.  Oh, and I don't own _The Wizard of Oz.  _

            Rogue peeled her eyes open, hesitant to think lest her uninvited guest still be running laps around her brain.  Silence.  Complete silence.  She laughed out loud, springing out of her bed and getting dressed.  She slid down the banister to the first floor, scampering into the kitchen and grabbing an English muffin.

            "Ding dong, the demon's dead, which ol' demon?  The speedy demon!" she sang, twirling.  Kitty cheered and gave Rogue a high five.

            "I've never seen you this happy!" she said, as Rogue squeezed honey onto her muffin, still smiling.

            "Wait- Pietro's dead?!" Evan asked.  The whole table started laughing at him, his huge eyes and milk moustache too ridiculous for them to hold back.

            "Like no Evan, Quicksilver touched Rogue and she was like hearin' him in her head, being totally annoying."

            "But he's gone now!" Rogue said around her mouthful of nooks and crannies.  "I swear, it was like my whole life was an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000."

            "Never liked that show," muttered Scott, "They keep talking during the movie."  

            "That's the point, Scott," Jean sighed.  

            "We have to go," Scott replied imperiously.  "We're gonna be late for school."

            Scott Summers didn't like to admit it, but there was quite a bit he didn't know.  He didn't know what Jean saw in Duncan Matthews.  He didn't know what Kitty saw in Lance Alvers.  The mystery that plagued him more than any other was how Lance timed it so that he pulled up next to Scott's car at the same time every morning, at the same red light.  Sometimes he hated having a convertible.  _Maybe I can ask Storm to give us a fifteen minute light shower so both of us have to put the top up.  _

            "Hey Summers, when you gonna stop drivin' that clown car?"  Lance called, snickering at all .  Then he beamed over Todd's head to the back seat.  "Hi Kitty!"

            "Hi Lance!" she called back.  

            "Blue, you wanna get some pizza later?"  Tabby shouted, the background behind her composed entirely of Freddy, Pietro sitting beside her.  

            "Okay, but if I'm buyin', I pick the toppings!"

            Scott cringed, about ready to bite through the steering wheel.  

            "Hey, can I get in on that?" Todd called over.  "I got a coupon, yo!"

            "As long as you use your hands, and not your tongue," said Kurt.  

            "EXCUSE ME!"  Scott roared.  "I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong here, but it's Brotherhood of EVIL Mutants, right?  Okay, evil!  Not perfectly neighborly mutants, evil."

            "Jeez, Summers, lighten up, yo, we're just talkin' bout a pizza!"

            "Oh no, Todd," Pietro said, having been quiet for an unnaturally long time.  "Summers has a point for once.  How's your head, Rogue?"  he purred, smiling broadly.

            Rogue glanced up.  

            "I'm sorry, did you say somethin', Pietro?  I was just enjoyin' the silence."  Kitty giggled.  

            "Yeah Pietro, Rogue like, found inner peace, y'know?"  

            "Already?"  Pietro said, as crestfallen as Pietro ever got.  The light turned green and Scott hit the accelerator.  There had to be a different route to school, dammit.  Back at the light, Lance gave the Jeep a more moderate quantity of gas, in no particular hurry to reach Bayville High.  

            "What the hell was that all about?" Lance asked Pietro, who was sulking in the back.  Tabby chuckled and ruffled Pietro's hair.  

            "Quickie's just mad cause Rogue got over him so fast!"  Pietro swatted at Tabby's hands and glowered, lower lip protruding slightly.

            "Wait- I missed something, yo.  Pietro, you were dating Rogue?"  Todd asked.  Lance glanced in the rearview mirror, equally perplexed and disturbed.  

            "Nah," Tabby grinned.  "She doesn't waste any time thinking about him."

            "Whose side are you on, anyway?!"  Pietro snapped at her.  Tabby leaned back, propping her feet on Todd's headrest.

            "Enh," she said.  "Whoever's."


	4. You're so vain, you probably think my mu...

AN: Well, the whacky continues, and I think this will eventually turn into a Rietro, but in the most round about possible way.  Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, or just reading.  

            It was like she'd been sick, and forgotten how great it felt to be well.  Even the normal memories she retained from previous absorbtions seemed light when compared to the hours she'd spent listening to Pietro's chatter.  _God, what if I'd had to go to class like that?  _Rogue shuddered at the thought of any attempt at academics with the speed demon's running- no pun intended- commentary.  Rogue shook her head and shut her locker, walking through the hall to her math class, and almost tripping over Quicksilver.

            "Jesus!  Pietro, don't _do _that!"

            "Am I really that shallow?"  His face was the very picture of righteous indignation, hands on his hips, eyes steady.

            "What?!"  _Oh my god, _Rogue thought, _somehow he talked to the him inside my head or read my mind or somethin' what the hell does he know?  Dammit, I'm gonna have to kill him._

            "Lance said Kitty said you called me shallow.  I just wanna know if you really think that."

            Rogue heaved a mental sigh of relief.  She'd hate to have to find a place to hide Pietro's corpse.  

            "Pietro, I gotta go."

            "No no no no no, this is important!  I'm a sensitive individual, I'm a 90's kinda guy, well, millenial kinda guy, whatever, and just because I'm so fantastically sexy doesn't automatically make me _shallow!"  _

His righteous indignation was met with equally righteous skepticism.

"Do I have to threaten you, or are you gonna let me go to math?"  Rogue said, stepping around him.  He continued to orbit her like an electron as she walked to class.

"All I'm saying is that I have much more depth than people give me credit for, I have layers, I'm soulful, I'm unique, I'm intelligent, charming, caring, I have dreams, desires, _ardent _desires, and it doesn't matter if nobody sees it because _I_ know, but if you don't see it that's kind of a problem cause you see things that other people don't what with the whole-"

The door of the classroom shut in Pietro's face.  Through the narrow rectangle of glass, he could see the furry kid in the hologram laughing at him.  He tested the knob, but all it got him was a dirty look from the teacher who'd locked the door.  

"This is not the validation I was looking for, damn it!"  he shouted.  Kurt just laughed harder, and Rogue rubbed her temples in exasperation.  Inside the classroom, the teacher was collecting the homework, and as he accepted paper from the snickering Kurt and the quasi-mortified Rogue, he favored them with an equally withering glance.  

"Friend of yours?" he asked them.  Rogue just took out a pen and wrote the date at the top of her notebook page, muttering,

"I don't see anyone, I don't hear anything, and even if I did, no power on this earth could make me care."

            "This may sound like a stupid question, Kitty, but what do vegetarians put in their sandwiches?"  Rogue asked, trying to imagine how her sandwich would taste without the sliced turkey.  

            "All kinds of stuff.  This one's tomato, Swiss and mozarella with sprouts.  Little mayo, little honey mustar-"

            "I am _not _that shallow."

            Kitty yelped as her instructional was interupted by Pietro's appearance in the other chair across from Rogue.  Lance arrived much more gradually, though he nearly turned around entirely when it was clear that Pietro was still determined to force a better evaluation out of Rogue.

            "Hi Kitty, hi Rogue," Lance sighed.  "Mind if we sit with you?"

            "Like, sure, if _someone _can contain himself," Kitty replied, staring pointedly at Pietro, who was staring pointedly at Rogue.

            "Zip it, Pryde, this is between me and the Rogue," Pietro snipped, not taking his eyes off Rogue, and thus not noticing Lance's hand until it smacked him in the back of the head.  "Ow."

            "Pietro, I'm not talking about this anymore.  Believe me, in the past twenty four hours you and I have talked _plenty."_

            "And in that entire time, I didn't say anything of merit, or depth, or value, or-"

            "Rogue.  I'm begging you.  Tell the boy he's not shallow so we can all move on with our lives, he'll never let it go otherwise," Lance pleaded.

            "Keep out of this Alvers, play footsie with your girlfriend or something.  Ow!  _What?!"  _Pietro protested as Lance whacked him again.  

            "I only agreed to let you come with me on the condition that you'd be polite," Lance said.  

            "I thought you meant to her!" Pietro said, pointing at Rogue.  "Speaking of which, Rogue, please, give me another chance.  I can be deeper.  I can prove to you that I can brood with the best of them.  Just please, one more chance, pretty please?"

            "One more chance to what?" Rogue cried, throwing her hands in the air.  "Jesus, it's not like I broke up with you or something."

            "Ah ha!  Then I must not be shallow, or you would have!"

            "We were never going out!" Rogue shouted, as Lance smacked his forehead and then took another shot at the back of Pietro's head, which he ignored.

            "Hm.  You have a point.  Fine.  Date me."

            "Are you completely insane?" Pietro just looked at her.  Rogue sighed.  "If I tell you you're not shallow, will you let this go?"

            "Yes."

            "You're not shallow."

            "I don't believe you."

            Rogue got up, crumbling up her lunch bag and stalking out of the cafeteria.  

            "Wow, Pietro, you sure have a way with girls," Kitty sighed.

            "She's just playing hard to get," Pietro replied.  "I just have to play it cool, and she'll come around."

            He managed to play it cool for about twenty five seconds before leaping up and running after her.

            "This is like, _totally _not gonna end well," Kitty sighed.  

            "I'm thinking foreign exchange program.  But he'd just run back."

            The second Rogue walked out of her English class, Pietro was on top of her again.

            "We could go see a movie."

            "You can sit still for ninety minutes?"

            "Or we could just get a pizza.  I'll steal Todd's coupon."

            Rogue shook her head and kept walking.  

            "I know what this is about!  This is about your whole not touching thing.  I don't care about that, I don't, really!"

            "Suuure you don't.  We'll just hold hands all night, I'll keep my gloves on."

            "That sounds like a yes."

            "It's not.  I told you you're not shallow."

            "That's not what you told Kitty," Pietro sulked.

            "Look, I just touched you for a second, that's not enough time for me to absorb any deeper memories, just your powers temporarily.  Just surface stuff.  So I have no idea if you're shallow or not, all right?"

            "What class do you have now?"  Pietro asked innocently.

            "Study hall, why?"

            She regretted having answered the second the words came out of her mouth.  

            "No reason," he grinned.  He grabbed her arm, shoved the sleeve of her gauze shirt out of the way, and grabbed onto her bare arm. "Tag."  He held on for an impressive ten seconds, despite her attempts to break his grip, before he passed out cold.

            "Pietro.  _Pietro!_" Rogue shook the boy and slapped his face a couple times, gloved of course.  It had been two minutes already and he still wasn't responding.  She glanced up and down the empty hallway and picked him up, grunting.

            "DammitQuicksilver yougottalayoff themdamnpixiestix."  She took a deep breath and used the power he'd forced on her to run him back to the Brotherhood House.  About halfway there, she heard him mutter and stir, and she came to a halt, kneeling down and setting him on the sidewalk, supporting his upper body.  It was all very sweet, until she smacked him again.

            "Up and at 'em, Pietro, I know you're in there."

            _That's not the only place I'm in, Stripes._

            Rogue looked down at the mostly unconscious Pietro, then looked around.  She could just strangle him now, no one was around, and she was already wearing gloves.  He shifted again, muttering something about hypoglycemia, and she sighed, shaking him a little.

            "What?" he grumbled.

            _Aw, let him sleep, _mind-Pietro protested.

            "Wake up, Maximoff."  

            He blinked up at her, then stretched happily.

            "Oh yeah, now I remember."

            "Do you now?"  Rogue snapped.  Pietro yawned and draped his arms around her neck.

            "I'm not the kind of guy who'd forget his own girlfriend!"

            _Not that kind of guy at all! Wow, I'm even more handsome in person… _Pietro's voice echoed in her head.  

            "Iam _not _yourgirlfriend," she growled, yanking his arms off and picking him up by his shirt.  "NowI'mgoingbacktotheInstitute," she took a deep breath, forcing herself to slow down,  "you are going back to the Brotherhood house, and as soon as I get your voice out of my head, I am _never _talking to you again."  She stepped away from him and he started to fall.  Reflexively, she caught him, against her better judgment, which was to let him eat pavement.

            "See now, it's not just any girl who can make me weak in the knees," Pietro said, as his voice echoed the same thing.  Rogue sighed, pulling Pietro's arm over her shoulders and helping him walk.

            "One of you has got to shut up, or at least stop simulcasting."

            "Still think I'm shallow?"

            "I think you're crazy."

            "That's a step in the right direction."


	5. I've still got your face, painted on my ...

Author's Note:  I'm enjoying this way, way too much.  Thank you to all the kind reviewers, you make me blush so.  This chapter is a little less funny, and I've officially made romance the secondary category, though it's not really underway yet.  There's more Scott bashing in this chapter, but again, nothing awful.  

            "Come on."

            "No."

            "Please?"

            "No."

            "It'll only take you like, two seconds."

            "No."

            "Why _not?_"

            _Yeah, why not?!_

Rogue sighed, sitting Pietro down on the porch of the Brotherhood's sagging Victorian house and standing over him, hands on her hips.

            "One: Tabby, Lance, Todd and Freddy are gonna be home any minute, I shouldn't intrude."

            _But I'm inviting you!  It's my house too you know!  _

            "Pietro, tell yourself to hush.  Two: I have no desire to see the inside of your room.  Three:  I'm-  Pietro Maximoff, are you looking up my skirt?"

            _No fair!  How come I have to be in the mind?_  The mind-Pietro complained.  Pietro batted his lashes at Rogue.

            "Busted," he said.  "But come on, help me up to my room.  It's cold out here," Pietro gave her the saddest face he could muster.

            "Sad puppy faces work a lot better when you haven't just been caught being a pervert, Maximoff."

            "Not in my experience,"  Pietro said, extending his hands.  "Help me up.  I need a nap, you've worn me out."

            Rogue sighed, and helped him up.

            "Why don't you just have some pixie stix like you always do?"

            "Take me to my room and I will," he said, leaning part of his weight on her shoulders as he had before.  She opened the door and heaved a deep sigh as she saw the angle and length of the staircase.

            "We're indoors, you sure I can't just leave you here?" she grumbled.

            _I'm going home with you stripes, no way around it!_

            "I'm sorry I asked."

            "I didn't say anything," the real Pietro replied.    
            "I know you think you didn't," she replied, starting up the stairs.  "What the hell did you go and touch me for anyway?" she asked, making a mental note to snarl any follow up questions, as this one had dangerously approached whining.  Pietro shrugged.

            "What can I say, introspection isn't my strong suit, so you get to evaluate me."

            "Thanks a million."

            "Oh, mope about it why don't you.  I want a second opinion.  I'm _not _shallow.  Any angsty secrets emerging yet?"

            Rogue paused as she hit the top of the stairs.

            "Even if there were any, why would you want me to know them?"

            "Proof that they happened, I guess," Pietro said.  "Or maybe I just want you to blackmail me into being your boy-toy."  Rogue just sighed again and marched towards his door.

            "Third on the right," he contributed.  She glared at him and went for the door knob.  

            "It's not like I haven't lived here, you know.  If you've got secrets you wanna get out, why the hell don't you just tell somebody?"  she sat him down on his bed and was helping to pull off his shoes before she had time to think about it.

            "Why tell someone when I can show you?  You'll know my memories the way I know them, maybe better."

            _Without having all the words in the way, _Rogue thought.

            _Exactly, _mind-Pietro said.

            Pietro lay down in his bed, stretching out again.

            "I feel like I could sleep for days.  What a difference nine seconds makes.  Your power's weird," he said, yawning and blinking.  Rogue snorted and tossed the bedspread up over his face.  

            "Not as weird as you are, slick.  Get some rest, when I see you Monday, you had better have gotten this out of your system."  He sat upright under the blanket, like a Halloween ghost, but with navy pinstripes.

            "Sure you don't wanna sleep the weekend away with me, stripes?"

            Rogue snorted.

            "Like your voice in my head is gonna shut up long enough for that."

            _She has a point,  _mind-Pietro replied.  

            _You know he can't hear you, right?_  Rogue thought.  Out loud she said, "I'm going home.  Enjoy your nap.  If you pull a stunt like this again I'll hamstring you."  Pietro tugged the blanket down off his head and lay back down.

            "I wouldn't've had to, but I have to prove I'm not…" yawn.  "Shallow."  He dozed off.  

            "He's a sweet kid when he's not running around like a maniac," said a voice from the doorway.  Rogue turned to see Tabby, leaning against the doorframe.  

            "You see the irony there?"  Rogue asked her.  Tabby smiled and shrugged.  

            _Aww, thanks Tabby, I think…_ mind-Pietro beamed.  

            "He wants your approval for some reason," Tabby shrugged again, her usual humor subsiding into something more serious.  "Go easy on him, okay stripes?  It's a big ego, but it's more fragile than we've been led to believe."

            "You got a thing for Maximoff here?" Rogue asked, arching an eyebrow.  Tabby snorted and smiled.

            _Aw yeah, she wants me.  _

            "I'm sibling-fond of Quickie.  You know blue, foreign and fuzzy is more my type."

            "Yeah, go easy on him, too."

            Tabby and Rogue stepped out of Pietro's room and headed down the stairs.

            "Sides, if he were shallow, he wouldn't care, would he?"  Tabby asked.

            "If he weren't vain, he wouldn't care.  I'm sure he's not really shallow, Tabby, I just don't know if proving to me that he's not is a good reason for handing me his memories on a plate."

            "I don't have an answer for that, Rogue.  But you better get home before Summers sends out a search party."

            Rogue said goodbye to Tabby and started to walk home, but her borrowed powers were itching inside her.  

            _Come on Rogue, show me what you got, _mind-Pietro prodded.  

            _You're on, Quickie.  _

            _Ready… GO!  _Rogue took off, her own private cheerleader rooting for her in her head the whole way home.

*****

            _Wow… is this what it's always like over here? _Mind-Pietro asked.

            _Pretty much.  _

_            You'd've been better off at our place, _he added.

            _Pretty much._

            Scott was pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen table, hands behind his back.  

            "Why are you here?  Hm, Kitty?"

            "To like, learn to use my powers and fight for justice and stuff?"

            "You sound like you're not sure."

            "Well, you're like, not building a whole lot of y'know, confidence right now."

            Scott nodded grimly.

            _Is he for real? _Pietro asked, incredulous.

            _Pretty much._

_            This is unbelievably lame. _

_            Pretty much._

            "How about you, Kurt?" Scott asked after a long, dramatic pause.  "Why are you here?"

            "Um… to try and find acceptance?"

            Scott nodded.

            "How about you, Rogue?  Why are you here?"

            "You know why I'm here, Scott, now why don't you tell us what the hell you're interrogating us for."

            _Go stripes!_

            "I think you three are losing your focus.  This is a great opportunity we've been given, and _you _three are wasting it.  You've been treating this place like a dormitory, and just running around doing whatever you please.  I mean, this is an institute, not a dating service for horny teenagers!"

            All three interogatees burst into angry protests.

            "Like you're _such _a jerk, Scott!"  Kitty snapped.  

            "Unbelievable, unbe-goddamn-lievable," Rogue snarled.

            "We're not doing anything wrong!" Kurt cried, more hurt than angry.  "Tabby's my friend, she means a lot to me!"

            "It's not _my _fault Quicksilver's insane, and scratch that, I'll hang out with whoever I damn well please!"

            _ That's my girlfriend!  _

"I am not your girlfriend!"  Rogue snapped out loud, earning her a weird look from Scott.  

            "Like, not you, she's _talking _to, like, Pietro?  He's in her head again, duh!"  Kitty snapped.

            "Well, that definitely has to stop, Rogue.  This sick fascination with Quicksilver needs to end.  We're here to help you," Scott said, voice full of high morals and insincerity.  It was a big mistake.  

            "C'mere you jackass!"  Rogue snarled, jumping over the table.  Kitty and Kurt grabbed her shoulders reflexively, but then recalled that Scott _was _being a jackass, and let her go, sitting back down.

            "Um… Kitty, Kurt?"  Scott said, looking back and forth between the two of them before he hit the floor.  "Jean?  A little help?  Please?"

            "I don't think so," Jean said from her end of the table, adequately away from the action.  

            _Wow, Red's not as stuffy as I thought!  _Pietro giggled.

            _She has her moments.  Now help me beat up Summers._

            "Jean!" Scott yelped.  "She still has Quicksilver's powers!"

            "Say 'I promise to mind my own business' and I'll let you live!" Rogue snapped.

            "_Jean!_"  

            Jean sighed and raised her hand, putting a wall between Scott and Rogue.

"Pardon me for a sec, Rogue," she said.  

            _No!  Lemme at him, lemme at him!  _Pietro shouted.  Rogue rolled her eyes.

            _You know, you're awfully brave when I'm the one doing the pummeling.  _

_            Well no one insults my girlfriend and gets away with it._

_            I am NOT- _Rogue cut her mental tirade short as Jean calmly continued.

            "Scott, our institute is based on the idea that humans and mutants can coexist peacefully," Jean continued.   "As well as mutants and mutants, humans and humans.  That's all Kurt and Tabby, Lance and Kitty, and Rogue and Pietro, well, sort of, are doing.  Coexisting peacefully.  The way I see it, you're the one screwing everything up."  With that, she dropped the shield.

            Rogue looked at Jean incredulously.  

            "Wow.  That may be the most inspirational thing I've heard since I've been here."

            "Like seriously," Kitty whispered, wide eyed.

            Rogue glared down at Scott.

            "I can't very well kill you after that," she growled.  "Thanks Jean."

            "Any time," she said, flipping to the next page of the magazine.  

            "Hey Kurt!"  Evan shouted from upstairs.  "Tabby's on the phone!"  

            Kurt bamfed to take his call, Rogue got off of Scott, and then turned to Kitty.

            "You wanna go get some coffee, Kitty?"  Rogue asked as they walked out.  

            "We've got no way to get there."

            "I'll give you a piggy back ride," Rogue grinned.  "Might as well use Quickie's powers while I got 'em."  Kitty giggled as she put her arms around Rogue's shoulders and the two of them took off.  


	6. You got to run like a (caffeinated) ante...

AN:  Okay, advance warning of some (sniff sniff) angst.  Oh come now, you knew it'd sneak in eventually.  It's also getting a tiny bit more romantic.  The next chapter will feature another dream sequence of the truly horrorshow quality.  I don't own any of the books listed.  Bleh.  Oh, and sorry for the lamely semi-obscure Phish reference in the chapter title, it was that or an even more obscure reference to a 40's-50's era coffee jingle.

            "Never again.  Never ever again."

            "Yeah, on reflection, it was a pretty like, bad idea to have caffeine with Pietro in your head and stuff."

            Rogue sighed.

            "Tell me about it.  Pietro, I'm begging you _shush!_"  she moaned.  Pietro was talking too fast for her to even keep up at this point, which was sort of disappointing.  His presence had actually been reassuring when she was confronting Scott.  Even if he did keep calling her his girlfriend.  Which was ridiculous.  

            "Maybe if you, like, thought calming thoughts?"  Kitty suggested.  

            "Is it possible to think valium?" Rogue asked.  "Jesus christ, it's making me tired just listening to him."

            Kitty got up and picked up the phone.

            "Who you calling?"

            "Lance.  He like, has to live with Pietro, they must've figured out a way to, y'know, calm him down by now.  Hey Todd, it's Kitty, is Lance around?  No, that's cool.  I just have a question.  Rogue, like, drank some coffee by mistake-  Todd stop laughing.  I mean it, this is serious!  What do you guys do to calm Quicksilver down when he's super hyper?"  

            Rogue looked on apprehensively as she listened in on one end of Kitty's conversation with Todd, and one end of Pietro's conversation with himself.  He'd picked through her brain like a kid in a toy store.  He'd already read the majority of books she'd ever read, and spent twenty minutes talking about the children of the night and what beautiful music they make, had proclaimed himself far sexier than Lestat or Armand, and asked repeatedly if he could nibble on her neck.  Then he'd gone back further, rereading the Chronicles of Narnia, all the Madeleine L'Engle books, and, to Rogue's horror, had found _Alice in Wonderland _and _Alice Through the Looking Glass, _which caused him to spend thirty minutes just acting creepy.  

            "Thanks Todd, say hi to everyone for me.  I'll tell her."  Kitty hung up the phone.  "Todd says that he and Tabby and Freddy wanna thank you for knocking Pietro out.  It's the first relaxing Friday night they've had since he moved in."

            "Swell," Rogue muttered.  "All I can say is that boy better be enjoying his beauty sleep, cause I am _never _laying hands on him again."

            "Until you can control your powers anyway."

            "Right," Rogue said.  "Wait.  What's that supposed to mean?"  Kitty ignored the question and moved on.

            "So Todd says that sometimes if they can get him to drink some warm milk it makes him quieter, other than that, they usually take something from him, like his pixie stix or whatever, and won't give them back until he goes and buys a stamp."

            "A _stamp?_" 

            "From Canada."

            Rogue got up.  "Well, it's a little chilly to sprint to Canada right now, and knowing my luck, Pietro's powers'll give out before I hit the Catskills and I'll be stuck calling Scott to pick me up in the Blackbird.  So warm milk it is."

            "Maybe you should work out in the danger room.  Couldn't hurt."

            Rogue nodded, bid Kitty goodnight, and went to the kitchen.  It wasn't going to be a pleasant workout with a glass of warm milk sitting in her stomach, but anything was better than a weekend with no sleep.

*****

            _I didn't know you could run up walls, _Rogue thought, laughing as she sprinted across the ceiling too fast for gravity to keep up.  

            _It's great, isn't it?  You just gotta be careful where you do it, I've put my foot through the drywall a couple of times.  That kinda puts a stop to the fun.  _

Rogue snorted as a memory surfaced of hanging from the ceiling suspended by one leg.  

            _Not so funny when it happened, but we can all look back on it and laugh now._

_            As I recall, Lance and Freddy thought it was pretty funny back then too, _Rogue replied.  Real memories were stuck in her head now, like when Pietro first arrived at the Brotherhood house.  It was tense at first, but whenever Mystique wasn't around and looking to blame someone for something, bonding came pretty easily.  She could feel his fears wondering what he might have gotten himself into, his suspicious curiosity about Lance, about Freddy, about Todd, and about her.  She stopped abruptly as memories surfaced about the field trip from which she never came home.  It was a strange blend.  She'd been flown to the Institute, with all these people she'd been fighting against, including the unconscious Mister Summers, having just nearly died in an icy cavern.  She'd developed something of a crush on Scott, which she now chalked up to Florence Nightingale syndrome.  That dissipated quickly enough when she saw what an ass he made of himself over Jean.  

            But at least she knew what was going on.  Mystique had stalked in the Brotherhood house that night, locked the door, and not come out for days.  The boys hadn't known anything about what had happened to Rogue until they saw her in school.  Pietro's memories of seeing her in an X-Man uniform for the first time were equally sharp, stinging.  There was a time their groups had clashed and she'd stolen Lance's power.  Without stable ground to run on, Pietro had hit the ground, and he'd seen where the attack was coming from.  

            Rogue saw herself in his memory, and she looked possessed, her eyes rolling back in her head, hands reaching out and forcing the earth itself to shake.  

_The whole world was falling apart, _Pietro said, calmer.  

            _I didn't know.  _

Pietro sighed in her mind.  _I tried so hard to hate you.  But it was pretty hard just managing to stay pissed.  I mean, it's not like Mystique was a particularly good den mother.  I don't know if she was as bad as Scott, mind you, but she was far from swell. _

            Rogue took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started going through some t'ai chi forms to cool down.

            _It was the four of us versus you and the rest of Xavier's recruits.  We'd fought them before, but you were with us.  The ground was shaking, and I was sure the world was ending.  But it didn't.  And I should have been relieved._

            Rogue finished her cool down and left the danger room, picking up her bag in the corridor and walking through the mansion's darkened and empty halls.

            _After every battle it's always the same.  No ground gained, no ground lost,  _Rogue thought._  Going back home, hurting and tired…_

_            And it feels like the world should have ended every time, _Pietro continued.

            _And it never does._

            In the bathroom closest to the room she and Kitty shared, she turned on the hot water, the hiss sounding far louder than it was in the silence.  Rogue stripped out of her sweats, dumping them in the laundry chute, and stepped into the steam.

            _So.  Do you still think I'm shallow?_

Rogue raised her face to the stream of water and smiled.

            _You've been playing in my mind all day.  What do you think? _She asked him.

Silence.  Rogue turned so that the water was hitting her back and lathered up her hair.  

            _Sandalwood.  Nice.  _Pietro thought.  _It's kinda scary.  _

"Sandalwood scares you?" Rogue asked, speaking quietly.

            _No, _Pietro replied,  _you loon.  It's scary that no matter what I tell you, or what you see of my memories, the real me across town won't have any clue.  There's no way I can tell him about how it all went, how fun it was to watch you almost kill Summers, how weird it was to be in your dreams, how cool it was to watch you play with our powers-_

_            How fun it was to watch me taking a shower, _Rogue added helpfully, picking up her razor and a bar of soap.  

            _Just cause I'm not shallow doesn't mean I'm blind, _he said pointedly.  _Now pay attention while you're shaving your legs or you're gonna cut yourself. _


	7. Dream a little dream of scrabble (and me...

AN- Okay, remember what I said about horrorshow dream sequences?  That's next chapter.  This is just Saturday.  Sorry it's so short.  

            Friday faded into Saturday, though it was technically Saturday long before Rogue and her mental passenger made it to sleep.  She'd had pleasant dreams, dreams of normality, of just hanging out with Pietro and watching TV, playing board games, that sort of thing.

            "That's not a word!"  Pietro protested.

            "Is too!"

            "Is not!  Hey, do you have a "U"?"

            "I'm not tellin'!"  Pietro grabbed her letter tray, spilling most of the letters all over the place.

            "S, S, M, L, P, X and… hey, here's a U!"

            "Give me my U back!"  Rogue shouted, trying to wrestle the tiny wood square out of his fingers, but to no avail.  "I need that to make slump!"

            "Nope, sorry, it's going to a nobler cause!"

            Even though the entire board was messed up, with eleven swift clicks he'd made his word.

            "HOW CAN YOU HAVE ELEVEN LETTERS?!"  Rogue shouted.  

            "I've been saving them for this moment.  Let's see, triple word score, used up all my letters, that's twenty, bonus for using one of yours, so, I've made Quicksilver for 293 points.  I win!"

            "Oh, that's it!" Rogue said, and pounced on him.  "You can't _save _letters in scrabble!"

            "We're playing by the Canadian rules," he protested as she tackled him.

            "There are no Canadian rules!"  she retorted, trying to mess up his hair.

            "Sure there are, just as Logan!  Not the hair!!"  he tipped her over so that he had her pinned down.  "Ha ha!  The tables have turned!  Now admit defeat!"

            "Never!"  Rogue replied, trying to maintain a serious tone even though both of them were laughing so hard it was difficult to breathe.

            "Then you leave me no choice!"  He hiked her gauze shirt up and raspberried her stomach.  She shrieked and laughed harder as the scrabble game turned into a full on tickling battle, which she was losing.

            "No fair, you're not as ticklish as me!"

            "Say 'you drive me mad with desire' and I'll stop."

            "Not a chance!"

            "Then suffer!" he redoubled his tickling efforts.  Rogue swatted at his hands and tried to get away, but he maintained the upper hand.

            "Come on, say it!  Saaaaay it!" 

            "Okay okay okay!"  Rogue cried, and Pietro paused.  Rogue took a breath, smiled and said, "Pietro…"

            "I'm listening."

            "I drive you mad with desire," she said, smirking.  He flashed her a brilliant smile.  

            "Well I _knew _that, stripes."

            She held her breath as he leaned down closer, his face approaching hers…

            And because irony is the strongest force in the universe, Rogue woke up as Kurt teleported right onto her stomach.

            "Hi Schwester!"  

            Rogue groaned.

            _Damn it!  _Pietro's voice sulked in her head. _It was just getting good too!_

_            Tell me about it._

"Good mornin' Kurt."

            "It's 5:30.  It's time for dinner."

            _Time for me to strangle you, you freaky little elf with NO SENSE OF TIMING!  _Pietro growled.  

            _Be nice, that's my brother you're talkin' about!  _Rogue got out of bed and let Kurt teleport her to the table, still in pajamas and bare feet, earning chuckles from all her teammates.  

            "Good morning, Rogue," the Professor said.  Kitty giggled.

            "For someone with a speed demon in her brain you like, sure took your time."

            "Har har.  I had a bad night," Rogue replied.  Evan scowled around his mouthful of fettucine.

            "Is Maximoff bothering you?"  

            _Oh go to hell, Daniels, you calcified freak!  _

            "Not really," Rogue smirked, "I just had too much caffeine before bed last night.  So I was up late getting it out of my system."

            "Okay," Evan said, swallowing.  "But if he is-"

            "I can handle it, Evan, thanks," Rogue said, digging into her plate.  "Hey Logan?"

            "What?"

            "Are there Canadian rules for scrabble?"

            "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.  And I live here."

            "That's what I thought."

            _Um…okay… I meant the European rules?_

_            Nice try, Quickie.  Shut up and let me eat.  _


	8. Normality Heaven, Normality Hell

AN:  I haven't exactly counted, but I think I'm seeing an increase in the number of Rietro fics, which pleases me to no end.  Anyway, behold chapter eight.  Tally ho, sally forth.  (Sorry, I've had quite an abundant number of pixie stix myself today.)

            Sunday went by like a scene out of a movie, a beautiful sunny day, everything going right, just before it all goes to hell.  In spite of Xavier's concern that a friendly presence in Rogue's mind would cause her to withdraw further from the others, it actually caused her to spend more time with them: Pietro's influence gave her confidence, and the way he complained if she let him get bored was incentive alone to go find someone to do something with.  

            The wholesome atmosphere was disrupted when, around eight that evening, Logan had been shocked and disturbed to find out that Kitty and Kurt had no idea how to play poker.  

            "At your age?  That's pathetic!"  With that statement, Rogue found herself sitting at the round table with Scott, Jean, Logan, Kurt, and Kitty, with a pile of pennies in front of her and a straight in her hand.  Logan had placed on his head a transparent green visor, which he considered an indispensable accessory for the dealer of the game, and a cigar in his teeth, which he considered an indispensable accessory for lots of things.  Kitty and Kurt were playing as a team so they could get a grip on the rules, which left the rest of them playing solo.  Except of course for Rogue, who still had company.

            _Red's bluffing, I know it!  _Pietro said every single hand.  

            _Pietro, Jean's luck ain't so bad that she has to bluff every hand!_

_            And it ain't so good that she should smile like the Cheshire cat.  _

_            Have you been in the Lewis Carroll again?_

_            Maybe.  Ante up.  _

Pietro proved to be a big help, keeping a reasonably close count of the cards.  Rogue threw a couple of hands to improve Kitty and Kurt's chances, Scott's preferred game was, and would always be, blackjack, so he played half-heartedly at best.  Jean was far and away the smoothest operator at the table, smiling like the Mona Lisa the whole time.  After a couple hours of fierce competition, Pietro got bored, and Rogue got bored shortly thereafter, folded her hand and donated her winnings, generously, to Scott, who was having the worst time of it, and he accepted with grace; she then made her way upstairs to bed.  

            _Did you have fun? _She asked Pietro.  She could feel him grin in her head.

            _Well, it wasn't scrabble-fun, but it was a good time.  Did you do your homework?_

Rogue rolled her eyes.

            _Yes, 'mother', I did.  You were there, remember?  You wouldn't stop singing the goldfish crackers jingle.  _

            _Oh yeah, _he replied.  He paused for a moment as Rogue opened her door.  She'd come to recognize this as an almost certain sign that he was about to say something which would make him seem vulnerable and sweet, and waited patiently as she changed into her pajamas.

            _You're nervous about tomorrow, aren't you?  _He finally asked, and the question stung.

            _I'm trying not to think about it, _she thought back.  

            _Why are you nervous?  _He asked, clearly trying to mask his own fears unsuccessfully.

            Rogue sat down on the edge of her bed and tried to put a stopper in the wash of sorrow on which she felt like she was choking.

            _Because here in my head everything is so easy, Pietro.  It's just you and me and no one can interfere.  It's been nice.  It's been really, really nice._

_            So what's the problem?_

Rogue sighed and bit her lower lip till it hurt, trying to push all thoughts out of her mind.

            _Stop that!  _Pietro protested.  _Cut that out.  I'm serious, what's the problem? _His voice took on a more jovial tone and Rogue could feel his smile in her head trying to break through the smog of her fears.  _Tomorrow, you get up, you go to school, and I'm sure I'll chase you down before you have a chance to close your locker, and you can tell him how well it all went.  This whole voice in the head thing will fade out, and you can tell the real me what a swell guy he turned out to be.  _

_            And then what?  _Rogue asked. _He didn't see the things you've seen.  I didn't talk to him, I talked to you, and even if you're the same person, he wasn't in on this lost weekend of ours.  _

_            I wish I could tell him, Rogue, you know I do.  Hell, part of me doesn't want to.  I can't believe it, I'm actually so sexy that I'm jealous of myself.  I can't tell him, so you're gonna have to._

Rogue crawled under the covers and pulled them up to her chin.  

            _What if he doesn't listen?  _She asked, both to herself and to the Pietro who lived in her head.  That Pietro laughed, and said,

            _If he doesn't listen, then the gloves come off.  Slip him some skin, and while he's unconscious, you'll have time to run him to Atlantic City.  _

Rogue giggled a little.

            _I don't think that waking up to find out he's married is gonna change his mind._

Pietro shrugged.

            _Maybe not, but I know for damn sure he can't afford a divorce.  Now go to sleep, it's gonna be a long week and it all starts tomorrow.  _

*****

            Rogue had hoped for another game of scrabble, for another movie, for another dream of normality heaven.  Instead, she got a surreal dream of normality hell.  Everything was off.  The colors were just a little too bland, like someone had turned down the contrast knob.  She was in the passenger seat of some old car, a huge boat of a thing.  She looked down at her hands, and saw that her usual leather gloves had been replaced with small white ones.  If that weren't bizarre enough, it suddenly occurred to her to check and see who was driving the car.

            She looked like someone had put Donna Reed and Lucielle Ball in a blender and painted her skin blue.  She wore white gloves, her hair was impeccably curled, and she wore some sort of expensive hat pinned to it.  

"Mystique…" Rogue whispered.  The driver glanced over at her.

"Why Rogue, I'm surprised at you!  It's simply not appropriate for young ladies to address their mothers by their Christian names like that, it's vulgar!  Honestly, sometimes I wonder what they teach you at that school of yours," she turned the steering wheel, which seemed enormous compared to the steering wheel of Scott's car.  "You'd just better behave yourself in front of Mister Lensherr."

"Mister Lensherr?"  Rogue asked.  She caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror and swallowed hard.  Her make up was gone, her hair longer and curled at the ends and held back by a headband.  She sat their fixated by her own reflection after the car stopped.  Mystique broke the spell by getting out and opening Rogue's door.

"Sweetheart, there's _nothing _to worry about, you look like a perfect little lady!"  she exclaimed, grabbing Rogue's hand and pulling her out of the car.  Rogue glanced back.  An Edsel?  What the hell was an _Edsel? _ The Donna Reed version of Mystique dragged Rogue to the porch of the house before them, then rang the doorbell, smoothing her dress.  "Smile, sweetheart," she said, nudging Rogue, who was still staring down the street at this bizarre 1950's Betty Crocker nightmare she'd stumbled into.  The door opened, and Rogue turned back.

He looked ridiculous; she would have laughed if this hadn't all seemed so deranged.  His hair was slicked back with was looked to be a half-gallon of some viscous substance, and his clothes were so clean cut and generic.  The expression on Pietro's face did not belie any amusement, indeed, the only thing Rogue could read off him was horror.

"If that's really you," he said, almost too quietly for her to hear, "Then for christ's sakes run before my dad gets to the door."

"Why that's a strange thing to say, Pietro!"  Mystique laughed.  "You have such an odd sense of humor, it's charming!  Now is your father in?  I hope we're not early…"

"Early nothing, Mrs. Darkholme!" a deeper voice echoed from inside.  He stepped up to the doorway, looming over Pietro, clean cut, a pipe in his mouth, a broad smile on his face, blood curdlingly wholesome.

            "Oh god," Pietro murmured, looking like he was about to make a run for it when the man's hand fell heavily on his shoulder.

            "I think you've kept these ladies waiting outdoors long enough, don't you slugger?"  the man said warmly.  Pietro looked sick to his stomach.  The older man turned back to Mystique and Rogue.  "Come in ladies, forgive my son, please, he's not always sure of himself in social situations."

            Rogue looked around for a way out, as far as her eye could see, she was trapped in this wholesome nightmare.  She looked back at the door and recognition hit her, like a free-weight to the gut.  He didn't look the same out of battle wardrobe.  He looked much more intimidating now.  

            "Magneto?"  she whispered.

AN part 2: I know, cliffhanger, I'm the devil.  The next part'll be up soon, wherein this nightmare is continued and Rogue and the live flesh and blood Pietro cross paths again.  Oh, I don't own _Scrabble, Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, Donna Reed or Lucielle Ball, or Edsel.  _


	9. Step into the slideshow

AN:  Behold, chapter nine.  Rionithis has guessed my evil plan, Jean will be key in this tale of two Pietros.  In this chapter, the dream sequence from "Normality heaven, normality hell" winds up, and if you're not sure what's going on, there'll be a clarification at the end.  I'll start working on chapter ten as soon as I post this cause hey!  Pietro's secret really works, pixie stix are better than sleep!  Anyway, general angstiness warning, and a little tiny bit of Lance/Kitty mush.  Thanks millions to everyone who's been reading and/or reviewing!  For today's disclaimer:  I don't own Kodak.  Gods, I wish I owned Kodak.  I'd be so rich.  

            "Come on in, Mrs. Darkholme.  My goodness, Rogue, you've gotten so big!  It seems like just yesterday that I was trying to do horrible experiments on your brother," Magneto smiled, ushering them in.  Pietro shot Rogue a look that said, "My dad tried to do horrible experiments on your brother?"  Rogue shot one back that said, "Magneto's your _dad?_"

            "Oh, you!"  Mystique giggled.  "And please, call me Raven."

            "Then you simply _must _call me Erik.  Golly, I'm glad our kids have become such good friends, don't you?"

            "I sure am, Erik.  Oh, you've got the slide projector set up, what fun!"  

            Pietro leaned over to Rogue as their parents herded them onto the couch, whispering to her, "Look, there's a back door in the kitchen, there's _always _a back door in the kitchen…"

            "Now now, lovebirds, no secrets from Mom and Dad, okay?"  Mystique said, sitting in the overstuffed armchair to Rogue's left.  

            "Oh, Raven, you and I are modern folks, I think it'd be fine if the kids held hands,"  Magneto replied, sitting in an identical chair to Pietro's right.  Pietro looked at his father like he was insane, but as Magneto switched off the lamp closest to him and picked up the control to the slide projector, the two younger mutants grabbed each other's hand and held on for dear life.  

            The first slide showed Mystique, her hair tied back, her face flushed, in a hospital bed, holding two infants wrapped in blankets.  One appeared to be a normal child, the other was blue and had a tail.

            "Oh, this one is Kurt and Rogue when they were just new!"  Mystique said.

            "Giving birth to twins isn't easy," Magneto said.

            "It is when you're a shape shifter!"  Mystique replied.  Laughter emerged from nowhere, like a studio audience.  

            "Oh my god," Rogue whispered.  The projector clicked to the next slide.  There was Magneto, his arm over the shoulders of a very pregnant, very terrified woman.

            "And this is me and Pietro and Wanda's mom, Magda, just before she ran off because she thought I was out of my mind."

            Click.

            "Here's Kurt a few minutes later, being dropped to almost certain death by Mystique so he wouldn't be involved in any of my wacky plans!  No hard feelings though, right Mystique?"

            "Forgive and forget, that's what I always say!"

            Click.

            "And here's me passing Rogue off to Destiny, never to see her again until her powers manifested," Mystique said.

            "Formative years are overrated anyway," Magneto replied.  "Oh look!"  Click.  "This one's of Wundagore, that's where Magda dropped off the kids, and if you look over in the corner, you can see Magda, running off to die so that I won't track them down!  It's not a good picture of her, she's a little out of focus."  Click.  "Oh, and here's one of Pietro and Wanda with their new foster parents, the Maximoffs!"

            Click.

            "And here's the house Wanda set on fire!"

            Click.

            "And here's the boy who's still in a coma because of Rogue!"

            Click.

            "And here's Wanda and Pietro getting separated because Wanda wasn't allowed to leave the country!"

            Pietro and Rogue sat side by side, watching in misery as every past trauma was projected onto the wall in true to life Kodak color.  

            The slide show ended, and Magneto turned the light back on.  Both Rogue and Pietro were looking at their parents with overwhelming hatred.

            "You know what the best part is, kids?"  Magneto asked.

            "No," Pietro said coldly.

            "What?" Rogue asked.

            "You're going to grow up to be just like us some day!" Mystique smiled.  

            Both of them started laughing cheerfully as Rogue and Pietro looked at each other, each of them wondering if either would be able to escape the shadow of their parents.

            Kitty sat bolt upright in bed as the door burst open, the lock breaking with the force.  She was about to scream for Logan or the Professor when Jean ran in, tears streaming down her face.  She ignored Kitty completely, instead heading straight for Rogue's bed.  

            "Jean, oh my God, you scared me, what's-" Kitty stopped talking as Jean grabbed Rogue by the shoulders, careful not to touch her skin, and shook her.

            "Rogue, wake up, it's a dream.  You have to wake up!" 

            Rogue's eyes opened and she saw Jean's face, wet with tears. 

_I could hear you in my head, _Jean said to Rogue mentally. _Both of you.  It'll be okay, I promise, it'll be okay.  _

Kitty looked on, confused and frightened, as Jean held Rogue, and let the younger girl cry.

Rogue didn't go back to sleep that night.  She wandered the halls of the institute, put her headphones on with the harshest, most jarring music she could find, and made herself a pot of coffee, far too afraid to go back to sleep.  Pietro's voice and her own were just repeating the same thing over and over:

_I'm not like them.  I'm not like them.  I'm not like them,  _until Pietro's voice gradually faded away, and the only voice left was her own.  The sun rose and the others woke up, getting ready for the school day ahead.  Rogue's face was ashen, and the dark circles around her eyes had nothing to do with make up, and all conversation stopped as she sat down at the table in front of a plate of waffles.

"I like don't think you should go to school today, Rogue," Kitty said.  "You look totally beat."

"I just had a bad night," she said in a monotone, cutting her waffles up and then pushing them around on her plate.  "I'll be fine."

"I agree with Kitty," the Professor said.  "It would be best if you stayed home and tried to get some rest."

            Rogue looked up, stricken.  

            "I'd rather go to school, Professor, it's really nothing."

            "You heard him stripes, there's no discussion," Logan growled.  "Now eat your waffles or you're going to spend the day in the infirmary."

            Rogue sat there, slowly nibbling at her waffles, long after the others had left for school.

            "What happened last night, Rogue?"  the Professor asked quietly.  

            "I just remembered something.  Several somethings."

            "Do you mind if I take a look?"  Rogue just shrugged.

            "Your house."

            Xavier shut his eyes as he perused Rogue's dreams from the previous night and sighed.

            "Rogue, I can promise you that just because a family member tends towards the immoral, it doesn't mean anything about you.  Just look at Juggernaut and myself."

            "I just never know where she's going to be.  She could be anybody.  At least when she was principal of the damn school I could keep track of her.  Now she could be anywhere.  She could be dead."

            "Which concerns you more?  Your mother, or young Maximoff's father?"

            Rogue gave a short laugh, without any mirth whatsoever.

            "A woman who can be anyone anyplace, or a man powerful enough to kill any of us just by thinking about it.  Any plans I make, she can screw up.  Anything I build, he can rip apart.  I just wish I was nobody.  I wish I wasn't special or-"

            "I know what you wish, Rogue.  But we must cope instead with what is.  You and young Maximoff have a choice:  you can live in fear of Mystique and Magneto for the rest of your lives, never trust anyone, never endeavor to build lives of your own, or you can simply try, and hope that when they do arrive, if that day ever comes, that you can persuade them to see things your way or stop them outright."

            Rogue winced at the twisting pain in her chest.

            "They're just so strong."

            "Then you must be strong yourself, and that will have to be enough.  Now go get some sleep.  I don't want you to miss more school than necessary."  Rogue recalled her dream again, that awful laughter, the images flashing one by one.

            "I don't think I should…"

            "Try.  I'll keep an eye on your dreams and make sure you're not disturbed.  We aren't lying to you when we say you have great potential Rogue, but before you can ever truly trust us, you must learn to trust yourself."

            Pietro zipped to Rogue's locker.  She wasn't there.  He zipped around the entire school, but she was nowhere to be found.  Finally, he found Lance, talking to Kitty Pryde.

            "Hey hey hey Kitty, where's your charming roommate?"  Lance glared at him.

            "Do you mind, Pietro, I'm _talking _to my _girlfriend!_"  

            "And I'm inquiring after mine, Rocky, is that too much to ask?"  Pietro beamed at Kitty.  "So, where is my little southern sugar?"

            Kitty's expression shifted around, from skepticism to amusement to that emotion of teenage girls which can only be expressed as "aww!"  It settled on something between sympathetic and fearful.

            "Um, she woke up, like, kinda sick, Pietro."

            "Did she say anything about me?" he asked, not at all casually.

            "Good god, I'm back in middle school," Lance muttered, only to be elbowed sharply by Kitty.

            "She didn't say much, y'know?  But it's Rogue, and she like kinda keeps to herself."  

            "The word shallow didn't come up, did it?"

            Kitty couldn't help but laugh.

            "Pietro, if Rogue ever says the word shallow again, I'll be _totally _surprised."  

            "Well, if my girl is under the weather, then I guess it's up to me to bring a little sunshine into her life!"  Pietro beamed.  He took off before Kitty could stop him.

            "I hope this like, works out, y'know?"  Kitty sighed.

            "It seems like it was easier when we were all fighting," Lance said grimly.  Kitty gave him a pouty look and threw her arms around his neck.

            "Aww, you sure about that?"  Lance grinned and gave her a kiss on the nose.

            "I said 'seemed' Kit-cat."

AN the Second:  Okay, so there's that.  For anyone perplexed by the dream sequence, those were all scenes from Rogue and Pietro's respective pasts, as presented by their biological parents, Magneto and Mystique in a creepily (in my opinion) wholesome 1950's kinda way, which I figured would be one of Rogue's many ideas of hell.  I tweaked some things from the normal Marvelverse bios so they'd fit in better with the X-Men: Evoverse.  If you wanna read the original character bios, swing by Marvel.com.  In my version, the Maximoffs are Americans who went to Europe to adopt Pietro and Wanda, but after Wanda accidently set a house on fire with her powers, she wasn't allowed to leave.  Yeah, I know, it's a stretch, but it moves the plot along.  I'll do better next time.  


	10. Chicken soup for the mutant soul

AN:  Chapter t t t ten!   I've officially switched the genre's around since this story is a lot less funny than it started.  Pietro and Rogue finally have their little talk.  Today's set of disclaimers: I don't own scrabble, gameboy, cosmo, or the chicken soup for the soul series.  

            Pietro would have been at the Institute in six seconds, but he stopped to pick up some chicken soup, so it took him eight.  He wasn't sure if he was actually going to need it, since Pryde was a lousy liar.  Something was clearly up, but Pietro doubted it was anything to do with him being shallow.  Pryde would've reveled in telling him that.  In fact, he doubted it had anything to do with him at all, but that had no effect on his interest or his concern.  

            He wasn't really sure what he was doing.  There were plenty of people who thought he was shallow.  Most of the people who'd ever met him, actually.  When Rogue had called him shallow, it had stopped him in his tracks, not just because of her mutant ability.  Rogue saw through everything.  Rogue saw through every trick anyone ever pulled to make themselves look good, or brave, or strong.  So why hadn't she seen through his trick?  Probably the same reason she didn't see through her own, not that he knew what that reason was.  He pushed those thoughts away, focusing only on getting to Rogue before her soup got cold.

            For such a sophisticated place, the Institute was incredibly easy to break into.  He just zipped across the grounds, up a wall, and while he wasn't as dexterous as Todd, he managed to get into a second story window without dying.  From there it was easy.  They must have been on decreased security during the school day, because no alarms heralded his arrival, and while normally Pietro loved to make an entrance, it was a relief.  He paused as he stood staring down a long hallway, which he knew was only one of many in an incredibly large complex.  Luck was on his side this time, since he'd managed to find the right hallway by chance, and the doors had names on them, drawn in marker on construction paper, just like the first day of college.  Pietro wandered down the hall till he came to the door with Rogue and Kitty's names on it, Kitty's on pink, with a heart dotting the "i" in her name and small flowers encircling it.  Rogue's name was just her name, printed in plain block capital letters on green paper, except for the flat part on the "G", which had a small flourish to it.  Pietro's attention was captured by the door knob, or lack thereof.  He pushed the door gently open, and looked at the splintered wood of the doorframe and the warped metal of the doorknob lying in the corner.  '_Woke up, like, kinda sick' my gorgeous ass, _Pietro thought darkly, walking in and moving the door shut behind him.  

            She was curled up in bed, her hair forming a thin mesh over her face.  Maybe Pryde hadn't been entirely untruthful, she did look like hell.  Pietro set his backpack down, hoping that the thermos would keep the soup warm, and took a couple steps closer.  There was a slightly darker spot on her pillowcase from where she'd been drooling, and Pietro found this painfully endearing.  He pulled the chair from her desk, removing all the laundry- dirty, clean, who knew?  -that hung from it and sat beside her bed, shut his eyes and waited.  

            Rogue only managed to sleep for about an hour, or rather, Pietro only managed to let her sleep for about an hour before he got stir crazy.  Then he got bored and started scuttling around the room, looking for something to fiddle with.  Exhausting all possibilities (gameboy, all available books and magazines including every Cosmo quiz, and a stray crossword puzzle, among other things) he sat back down, tapping his foot quietly, trying to be patient and failing in spite of his best intentions.

            _What the hell, _he thought and quickly reached down and shook Rogue's socked foot.  She gave a little grumble and curled up into a tighter ball.  Pietro frowned and poked her on the shoulder.  Another shift, but still no real response.  Finally, he went for broke, prodded her repeatedly in the side and then stepped clear, in case she tried to kill him.  She sat upright, eyes shut tight, and sighed, rubbing her face with the back of her hand, static turning her hair into a veil/halo/matted mess.  

            "Oh good!" he said brightly.  "You're up!"  Rogue looked at him and then glanced at her surroundings, looked back at him and gave a sleepy scowl.

            "Is this another stupid dream?" she asked.  Pietro smiled.  

            "Dream come true maybe, but no, it's not," he replied, overlooking the hint of desperation in her voice as she asked the question.  Rogue heaved a sigh and flopped back down in her bed.

            "Shouldn't you be in school?"  she muttered flatly.  His smile slipped a degree.

            "Pryde said you were sick.  She's a terrible liar."

            "I don't look sick to you?"

            "Not in the conventional sense, but you do look like something's wrong," he said.  She shut her eyes and bit her lower lip, hard.  Pietro leaned over.  "That looks like it hurts, you wanna cut that out?  What's going on, Rogue?"

            _It does hurt, _she thought, and wished that he could hear her.  After a few more moments of her silence, he asked, 

            "How was our weekend, Rogue?  I mean, I slept through most of it, and I was here, but I wasn't here, you know what I mean."

            He noticed that she was staring at him.  Well, not really staring, but gazing at him with an intensity that stunned him to silence.  She'd clearly not slept, and she'd been crying.  His smile crumbled.  _Oh god, what did I do?  _

"That good, huh?" he said quietly.  _How could I?  I don't really know what I did, but how the hell could I be such a prick?_  He got up and got the soup out of his bag.  "Look, I brought you soup, I'm sorry if I fucked up your weekend, your life, I'll get out of your hair…"  he was about to go, but she just kept looking at him.  "I'm sorry," he said, "I don't know what that facial expression means, I'm sorry if I was an asshole, I don't really know…" he trailed off again as Rogue shut her eyes and shook her head.

            "You were wonderful," she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.  He would have allowed himself to smile and enjoy this piece of news, but the sorrow in her face undermined it.

            "So… what's wrong?" he asked, sitting on the bed beside her.  

            "I just had a bad night last night, woke up feeling kinda sick," she said.  "It was nice having you in my head, and shallow is definitely not the word for you.  You've got plenty of depth and layers, and if anyone ever asks, I'll put in a good word."

            Pietro smiled again.

            "The hell with anyone, put in a good word with yourself.  How about that movie?  Or that pizza?  Wait, you're sick… we could just hang out, play monopoly, oh!  Scrabble, we could play a two on two with Rocky and Kitty, we'd kick their asses!"  

            Rogue shook her head again, and Pietro's face fell.  She took a deep, shaky breath as she tried not to cry, and laid back down, her head resting in Pietro's lap.  

            "It wouldn't work, Pietro.  You and me.  It barely worked in my head.  It was so nice, and I miss having you to talk to, but Pietro, it wouldn't ever work in real life."

            He took a long pause before he asked the question to which he didn't really want the answer.

            "Why not?"

            "Pietro, if I were your girlfriend, I'd never be able to kiss you goodnight.  I'd never be able to touch your face or hold your hand.  And I honestly don't think I could hold your interest, not for long, and I don't want to get hurt."

            "Couldn't hold my interest?  Rogue, I've kept a feud going with Evan Daniels, the most unworthy nemesis since the dark ages, and _that _holds my interest."

            "It's not just that."

            Pietro fell silent.  _I don't want to hear this, I know I don't want to hear this…_he thought, and if his mental counterpart were still in Rogue's head he would have been saying the same thing.  

            "It won't work, Pietro.  In my head, it's safe, no one can trouble us, no one can take you away from me or split us apart.  I had the nicest dreams, just of you and me being normal, watching TV, playing…" her voice cracked a little, and she paused to regain her composure.  "Playing scrabble, bickering, tickling each other.  It made me so happy."

            "Then why _not?_"

            "Because it won't be like that, it can't."  

            Pietro held his breath, conflicting emotions flooding through him as her hand grazed the top of his thigh through the denim of his jeans.

            "That's as close as I can ever get to you without hurting you."

            Pietro shivered and let his fingers trail over her hair.  

            "I only touched you for ten seconds and you had to sleep for two days to recover."

            "But that whole time, I was with you in your head, and we were happy," Pietro said.  Rogue thought back to her last dream and tears escaped, the warm saltwater sinking through Pietro's jeans and touching the skin underneath.  

            "More or less, we were happy," she said, her voice quivering.  "But that's the only place it could work."

            "Then I guess that's where it's going to have to stay," Pietro said, and, turning her gently, laid both hands on the sides of her face.

AN the second:  I know, I'm awful, I promise I won't leave you hanging for long.  Next chapter may be up late tonight (in the wee hours of the A.M.) or sometime tomorrow before four, EST.


	11. Intro to creative problem solving

AN:  This one goes to eleven….  Hi, just me.  Okay, we get a little bit of the funny back in this chapter, a little romance, nay so much angst, and a brief musical interlude.  Something for everyone!  For those of you fretful after last chapter: trust me!  I love these two crazy kids!  : )  Disclaimers du jour:  I don't own… well, I don't wanna ruin the surprise for the musical interlude, so I'll hold off till the end.  

Xavier's eyes snapped open.  He knew Quicksilver was in the building, but his involvement with Rogue had brought with it a marked improvement in her mental health, so he'd decided to allow it and monitor Rogue for any signs of distress.  The swell of panic with which he had just been hit definitely constituted distress.  

_Logan, Ororo, Rogue's room, now, please, _he transmitted, receiving affirmation from both while he himself moved to her location.  

            Last time he'd touched her for ten seconds and passed out, but by using both hands, he'd increased the surface area, and with it, the effectiveness of Rogue's power.  She was too shocked by the action to do anything for a moment, then tried to scramble out of his hands, but he'd managed to maintain his contact with her face.  

            "Pietro, stop," she said, trying to push him away.  "I'm hurting you, stop it!"

            His head nodded, like he was about to fall asleep, and he smiled.

            "Sorry, stripes," he said, "But as you've probably noticed by now, I really don't take rejection well."  Pietro's hands slipped away, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he hit the floor.

            "Pietro?  You _idiot!_" Rogue shouted.

            _Idiot nothing!  _Pietro crowed in her head, _I'm a genius!  This is perfect._

Rogue smacked her forehead.

            _You're lying unconscious on my bedroom floor, in what alternate universe is this **perfect?**_

            _The one in which we get to be together, duh.  _

            Rogue sighed, kneeling down and picking up Pietro's limp body.  _You really need to quit doing this._

_            Why?  You presented the problem, I solved it.  _

            Rogue rolled her eyes as she managed to get Pietro's body up onto her bed, falling on top of him just as Logan kicked in her already broken door.

            _Uh oh, _thought Pietro as Logan's claws came out.  

            "Logan, this _so _ain't what it looks like," Rogue said, standing.  Logan seemed unconvinced as Rogue picked up Pietro's feet and put them up, pulling his shoes off.

            "One side, stripes," Logan growled, advancing.  "Me an' the speed demon are gonna have a little chat."

            _Um…_Pietro thought.  Rogue spun around ungodly quickly to face Wolverine, unintimidated by muscle, claws or temper.

            "Only speed demon here right now is me, Logan, and if you wanna have a chat then start talking."  He ignored her, continuing to approach the bed.  At least he did, but faster than thought, Rogue was in front of him.

            "Hey!  You see any gloves, chief?" she snapped, getting right up in his face.  "Now unless you wanna join Quickie in his little nap you'll back the hell off and stay away from my boyfriend!"  Rogue winced at her own words even as Pietro's glee radiated through her head, and, maybe, some glee of her own.

            _Good, sweetie, get it off your chest, _Pietro soothed.

            "Which he's not."

            _You're so sexy when you're in denial.  _ Logan just glared.

            "I said one side, stripes."

            "You take one step closer and you're gonna need every drop of that healing factor, 'bub'!"  Rogue snapped, baring her teeth.

            _Marry me? _Pietro piped up.  

            "Quiet, Pietro!"  Rogue said out loud.

            "Well it looks like someone's feeling better," Ororo said, leaning against the doorframe.  "Logan, do you think you could put a lid on your paternal instinct to kill please?"

            Logan growled but stepped back as Ororo stepped towards Pietro.  Rogue bristled.

            "Relax child, I'm not going to hurt your friend, I just want to check his pulse."  Rogue stood down and let Ororo pass.

            _I never knew you cared, cupcake!  _Pietro beamed in her head.  Rogue hated to admit it, but she had to admit the return of Pietro's voice in her head was not at all unwelcome, and as she looked with concern at Pietro's prone form.

            _Relax, luscious, I'm fine.  I am fine, right?  _Pietro asked.  Rogue glared, her arms crossed, her tapping foot going nearly fast enough to light the floor on fire.

            _I don't know if you're fine, and you need to settle on a damn pet name if you're gonna use one.  _

            Her foot stopped and a gasp escaped her as Pietro gave her the equivalent of a mental caress.

            _When did you learn to do that?  _She sighed, a shiver running down her spine.  

            _Not sure.  At least I didn't have to start all over from the beginning._

_            You remember everything?  _She asked.

            _Dreams, games, nightmares, you trying to kill Summers, running with you, it's all still here.  See, stripes, it only gets better._

"Well, his pulse is steady, slow for him though, I'm certain," Ororo said, brushing her white tresses away from her face.  "How long did you touch him?"

            "Just for the record, the lunatic touched me, but I'd say between ten and fifteen seconds, no longer, but he used both hands…"

            Xavier entered in his chair, fingers steepled as he thought.

            "The increased area of contact will probably facilitate both a longer retention of Pietro's personality and powers by Rogue, as well as an increase in the duration of his coma.  Dare I ask what was going on, Rogue?"

            "He'scrazy, that'swhat'sgoingon," Rogue spat out, Pietro's power accelerating her voice again.  

            _"Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely… I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue…." _Pietro sang.  Rogue groaned as having a song stuck in her head was taken to a whole new level and went to go find her gloves, lest she have more than one person rattling around in her skull.  Pietro continued, relentless,  _"I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted… Worry, why do I let myself worry?  Oh crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you!"  Everybody, come on, lover, I know you know the words._

_            Sorry, _Rogue thought dryly, _it may come as a shock, but Patsy Cline is rarely played at goth clubs.  _

_            Oh, like there's a goth club within an eighty mile radius of Bayville.  Sides, you know who sings it, now sing along._

_            No._

_            Suit yourself.  _Pietro thought, throwing in a mental shrug as Rogue pulled a blanket over his body, trying to make him relatively comfortable.  Xavier, Logan and Ororo went outside to discuss the situation as Rogue sat back down on the bed, snapping the straps on her gloves.  She looked over at Pietro's unconscious face, which she could swear somehow retained an expression of triumph as his voice in her head came round to the second chorus, crooning with unexpected soul.

            _"I'm crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you, I'm crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin'…"_

"And I'm crazy for loving you," Rogue sang quietly with him, stroking his face with gloved fingers.  

AN the second:  …and I don't own "Crazy," as performed by Patsy Cline or anybody else.  Sorry, I couldn't resist.  We've still got a ways to go yet, so nobody's doomed, I promise.  Depending on when I have to work tomorrow (heh, today rather), chapter twelve will either be up tomorrow afternoon or tomorrow night.  Copious thanks to anybody following this story or giving it a second glance, you flatter me beyond words.  


	12. Premium Blend

AN: Well, there was more, but my browser crashed and took a goodly portion with it.  This is sorta the beta version of chapter 12, since I'm not sure I like it.  In any case, disclaimer du jour: I don't own KFC.  

            Kitty tapped her feet impatiently as Scott drove for home, much as she'd done the entire day, to the chagrin of teachers and fellow students alike.  She'd pestered Jean all lunch period to try and reach Rogue's mind to see what was going on, and to which Jean replied, "Do I _look _like Cerebro to you?"  She tried to complain to Lance, who only contributed "well, if you see him, tell him it's his turn to make dinner."

            "You let Pietro cook?"  she asked.

            "We would, but he usually just steals other people's food at the drive through.  That reminds me, can you also tell him we voted for KFC tonight?"  

            Kitty sighed as she recollected the conversation with her oh so unromantic boyfriend.  This was a great love story happening right in front of them!  A girl who can't touch anybody, a boy with an ego to big to let anyone get close to him, and they were perfect for each other anyway.  Meanwhile, _she _was stuck in class for eight hours wondering what the hell had happened!  Life was cruelly unfair, what kind of a god would allow her to sit through forty-five minutes of algebra while one of her closest friends could be in crisis, or have a boyfriend for the first time, or-

            "Kitty?"  Kitty blinked to see Scott's red sunglasses.

            "What?"

            "We're home."

            Kitty phased through the car door and zipped up the path to the door.

            "That just better not have broken my auto-locks," Scott muttered as the younger girl phased through the front door.

            Kitty bolted up the stairs.  At least she knew she couldn't walk in on anything too embarrassing, after all, no physical contact.  

            She couldn't have been more wrong.  She knew something was amiss when she heard the guitar line coming out of her room- way out of character for Rogue.  She pushed the broken remains of her door open- was it more damaged now than last night?  -and her jaw dropped.  Rogue was standing on her desk, arms in the air, dancing like a maniac, downing pixy stix and, dear god… singing?

            "Pour some sugah on me!  In the name of love, pour some sugah on me, come on fire me up!  Pour some-"

            "Rogue?"

            Rogue stopped in mid head bang.  

            "Um… Kitty, this is _so _not what it looks like."

            "It looks like you're standing on your desk headbang to like, Def Leopard."

            Rogue blinked, reaching over to her computer and stopping her MP3 player.  

            "Oh.  Um… I guess it is what it looks like."

            "Oh my god, is that Pietro?!" Kitty shouted, pointing at Rogue's bed.  

            "Um… yes."

            "Um, yes?  You're eating pixy stix and singing eighties rock, and Pietro's like, in your bed, unconscious or asleep or- oh my god, is he like _dead?"_

            _Tell her yes, I wanna see what happens._

"He's not dead, just vacationing in my head again.  The idiot."

            _I'm brilliant, you know it.  _

"Does the professor know?"

            "Yeah.  Logan nearly eviscerated Pietro."

            "Don't you mean your boyfriend, stripes?"  a voice rumbled from the doorway.  Kitty looked at Logan, blinked, then at Rogue, who she tackled, shrieking and giggling.  

            "Jeze, calm down Kitty!"

            "Like how could you not _tell _me?"

            "I was gonna get around to it."

            Logan cleared his throat and the girls looked up from their pile on the floor.

            "If you two are finished?"  Kitty and Rogue separated and sat quietly.  "Rogue, the Professor wants McCoy to keep an eye on your boyfriend's body, since he's not using it.  Take him down to the infirmary."

            _Aw, come on, I'm not sick, I'm just asleep.  Exceptionally handsome and asleep.  _

            Rogue sighed and scooped up Pietro's body off her bed and zipped him downstairs to the infirmary.  

"Hey!"  Kitty called.  "Tell Pietro it's his turn to get dinner.  KFC."

Dr. McCoy was puttering around, and leapt about a foot into the air when she appeared.

            "Rogue!  Don't sneak up like that."

            "Sorry, I keep forgettin' I can."

            "Dropping off your boyfriend's body?"

            "Yeah, we got some errands we gotta run," Rogue said, smiling at Pietro's sleeping face, leaning down and kissing his hair.  "Tell everyone I'll be back after dinner!"  With that Rogue was gone in a sharp gust of wind, flying across the pavement.

            _Where are we going?  _Pietro asked.  Rogue grinned mischievously.

            _We're gonna get dinner._

            Two sprints later, Rogue was on the doorstep of the Brotherhood house holding two buckets of fried chicken and a bag of side dishes.  Lance opened the door and his jaw dropped.

            "HeythereRocky, amIlate?"  Rogue asked.  He looked disturbed.  It was Rogue on his doorstep, but she was smiling Quicksilver's smile.

            "Are you okay Rogue?"

            "Yeah, sure, never better.  Now come on, I'm hungry, and this damn chicken's getting cold."

            Lance stepped aside and let her in, staring as she zipped inside, into the fridge and grabbed herself a soda.  

            "Hey, is Quickie back with dinner?"  Tabitha shouted from upstairs.

            "Kinda!"  Lance called back.  She scampered down the stairs, giving him a weird look.

            "Whaddayou mean, 'Kind-' oh…"  She caught sight of Rogue zipping around, setting the table just shy of breaking the sound barrier.  Lance shot Tabitha a concerned look, she just shrugged and started perusing the bucket for wings.

            "Hey Rogue?"  Lance asked.

            "Yep?"

            "Where's Pietro?"

            "Lunaticwentandtouchedmeagain, hisideaof beingromantic.  Todd!  Freddy!  Food!"  she hollered.  The two boys hopped and lumbered down the stairs respectively, diving into the chicken before they even managed to sit down.  About three bites into a thigh, Todd looked up.

            "Hey, where's Pietro?"

            "He decided he wanted to hang out in Rogue's head again," Tabby said around a mouthful of chicken and biscuit.

            "Where's his body, yo?"  

            "Institute," Rogue shrugged.  "McCoy's keeping an eye on him, lucky man."

            "Lucky man?"  Lance asked, both eyebrows arched.

            "Of course, I mean, few and far between are those who look anywhere _near _as good in a coma as Pietro," Rogue said.  

            That finally got their attention.  

            "Rogue, can we talk to Pietro for a second?"  

            "Hang on."  _Hey, you think you can work the vocal cords? She asked him. _

            _Um… yeah, I think so.  _

            "Miss me?"  Rogue said, her accent gone entirely.  Everyone's jaw dropped, food falling out of Tabby and Todd's mouths.  "That's disgusting," Rogue added.

            "Pietro?"  Tabby asked.  Rogue- or apparently, Pietro- shrugged.

            "That's me, blondie."

            "You wanna fill us in on what's going on?" Lance asked.  'Pietro' rolled his eyes.

            "Could you _be any slower, Rocky?  I am fond beyond words of the Rogue, she knows me better than anybody, no offense.  But she said we were a bad idea cause of the whole no touching thing.  So I just hopped back into her head and everything's great!"  _

            There was a long pause as everyone digested this information.

            "Kay, not to be a jackass, yo, but what about _your body?" Todd asked.  'Pietro' gave him a scathing look._

            "It's _fine, they've got it hooked up to gizmos at the institute."_

            "Yeah, but, you ain't in it yo."

            _He has a point, Rogue thought._

            _No he doesn't, Pietro thought back.  _

            "It's not like anything bad's gonna happen to it."

            "You think," Lance said.

            "I think," 'Pietro' conceded.  

            "Did you also ever think that maybe Rogue had a point when she said that you and her was a bad idea?" 

             'Pietro' scowled.

            "Watch it Rocky."

            "I'm just sayin', what kind of life is this for you two?  Her boyfriend's her imaginary friend, you don't even live in your own body?"

            Rogue's eyes shut, and when she opened them, the next words she spoke were her own.

            "This is the last time Lance.  I won' t let him do this again."

            Lance sighed.  

            "Don't get me wrong," Lance said.  "There's just got to be a better way."

            _That's profoundly helpful, Lance, Pietro thought dryly.  _

            "If there is a better way," Rogue said, "I don't know what it is."

            The rest of dinner was largely silent, and afterwards, Rogue bid the brotherhood goodbye and ran back to the institute.  The trip back was largely silent as well, at least until Pietro said,

            _Did you mean what you said back there?  About not letting me touch you again?_

_            I can't let you keep hurting yourself._

_            Not even if I want to?_

_            Not even if you want to._

_            Pietro was silent momentarily, feeling the rush as someone else did the running for once so to speak.  _

            _What makes you think you can stop me?_

_            Rogue halted suddenly, right outside the boundaries of the institute._

            _If you don't stop on your own, I won't see you anymore.  At all._

_            If I don't stop on my own, you'll see me all the time, in your head._

_            I want it to work Pietro, but Lance has a point.  It's no kind of life.  And I don't know what repeated exposure to my power can do.  The only other person I've ever touched more than once is Scott, twice, you're already up to three.  It could kill you for all I know.  _

_            Well, we'll test it out on Summers, and see how it goes.  _

AN the second: Okay I like it a bit better having read it again.  I had more, but my computer crashed, so we lost about a paragraph.  So anyway, next chapter, more complications, including Rogue acting increasingly not herself.  I'm gonna try and actually have the plot move _forward next chapter, as opposed to taxi-ing on the runway as it appears to be now.    _


	13. The Mutant Patient

AN:  Sorry it took me so long to update.  I'm quitting my job, trying to focus in on my senior project, etc, etc, I suck.  Disclaimer du jour: I don't own Lo-Jack.

_            Pietro woke up, feeling groggy and slightly hung over.  The last thing he remembered was talking to Rogue, she was so sad, and he told her he wanted to be with her-_

            Oh.  Right.  That.  He sat up, peeling the sensors monitoring his heart and lungs off his torso and put his feet onto the floor.  He shook his legs out, testing them, then zipped upstairs.  It was a tremendous relief to run, having laid still for god only knew how long.  He'd probably do a few sprints up and down the coast before he tagged Rogue again, after all, he didn't want to get out of shape.  

            Rogue's door had been fixed, and, just to be polite, he knocked quietly.

            "Come in," she said.

            He opened the door, and there she was, looking out the window, listening to one of those damned depressing CDs of hers, singing along quietly as she looked out the window.

            "'Welcome to my glass house, well it'll break real easy but it just won't fall down, and if you're worn down well you oughta be, c'mon let's leave this town come, run with me," she sang softly.

            "Sounds like a nice enough invitation," Pietro smiled.  She looked up and her face betrayed a war of emotions, and he was pleased to see at least one of them was wanting to jump up, run and hug him.  She didn't, so he casually strolled over and flopped on her bed next to her, looking lazily up at her with clear blue eyes.  She shrank away from him, moving closer to the wall.  "So, fill me in, what'd we do all week?"

            "We hung out," Rogue said, shrugging.  Pietro looked a little disappointed.

            "That's it?"

            "It was more than that, dope," she said.  "It was great, I just… I can't really explain it."

            Pietro sighed.

            "Well this is a little depressing.  I'm finally in a relationship with an interesting person and I can't even remember it."

            "Don't worry about it.  From now on nothing goes on between us, that you're not conscious for.  I mean it!"  Rogue said as he started to protest.  "This freaky little mental love affair is done."

            "Oh come on!"  Pietro protested, throwing his hands up in the air and sitting up.  "This is completely unfair!"

            "I know.  But as people never get tired of telling me, life isn't fair."

            Pietro glared.

            "I'm not buying into that.  Life may not be fair to you, but I'll be damned if I don't force it to be fair to me."

            "Pietro-"

            "Sorry, sweetheart," he said.  "But anything worth having is worth suffering a little."  

            Really, it was far too much to ask for him to see reason, she supposed as he lunged at her and touched her face again, but at least this time she managed to break the contact after just a few seconds.  She was angry for half a second, but it was hard to stay mad when looking at his sweet face.

            "Dammit, Pietro," she muttered quietly, picking him up.  

            _Back to the infirmary?_

_            No.  You're going home.  I'm gonna take you back to the Brotherhood house and leave you there, if Lance and Tabby don't break my legs.  _

            _You're breaking up with me?!  Pietro exclaimed.  _

            _If that's what you wanna call it. I can't keep doing this, you know why. _

            Lance opened the door to see Pietro slung in a fireman's carry over Rogue's shoulder.  

            "I was afraid of this," he sighed.

            "I keep forgetting how damn fast he is," Rogue said, hauling Pietro into the room.  

            "Let him touch you again, huh?" Tabby said, glancing out at them from the kitchen.

            "I didn't let him do anything Tabby.  Christ, I'm gonna have to transfer schools or something."

            She carried him up the stairs to his bed, his shoes and shirt still missing from being in the infirmary, then covering him in his comforter.  She turned to go and ran right into Lance.

            "Look, I'm sorry-"

            "No, I believe you, Rogue, Maximoff doesn't listen to anybody's reason but his own."

            _Best reason there is!  _

_            Rogue ignored Pietro's voice and looked up at Lance._

            "He didn't touch me for very long, he should be okay by tomorrow.  Lance…"

            "He's crazy about you Rogue."  A wave of panic swept through him as Rogue's face shifted from one of her expressions into one of Pietro's.

            "Who isn't?" she said with an uncharacteristic smile, especially given the gravity of the situation.  She blinked and the expression fell; she seemed totally unaware of what had just transpired.

            "I said he's crazy about you," Lance repeated.  This time Rogue responded with her own attitude.

            "Operative word being crazy- do _not start singing again, Pietro!!"  she shouted.  Lance swallowed hard as she turned back to him.  "Would you help me?"_

            "What do you mean?"

            "You see him more often than I do, can you kinda keep an eye on him?  I mean, gimme a holler if he's zipping my way?"

            "Yeah.  But do me a favor."

            "Yeah?"

            "If you ever get those power under control, give him a call, all right?  Cause you know, he's um…"

            _Crazy about you, Pietro finished._

            "I know," said Rogue.  "If I weren't such a big fan of his, I wouldn't care what he did.  But you know."

            "Yeah, I know."

            Rogue looked back over her shoulder.

            "Bye Quickie.  It's been fun, sugar."

            _It ain't over till the fat lady sings, which means Blob's getting a sex-change before I let go-a you, stripes._

            "**_INCOMING!!!_**"

            Rogue looked up from her locker, stricken.  

"Ah, hell," she muttered, and grabbed the shelf in her locker, hauling herself up off the floor and up top of them, on the grimy ceiling, as a gale force of wind whooshed past.  "We gotta stop doing this at school, dammit," she muttered as Pietro skidded to a halt.  Lance came barreling down the hallway, Tabby and Todd crashing into him as he stopped, Freddy crashing into all three.

"There he is!" Tabby shouted as she spotted Pietro.  "C'mon boys!"

The other Brotherhood members careened after Quicksilver as Rogue let herself down from the lockers, dusting herself off.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," a voice said next to her.

            "Damn it," she muttered.  She'd be an idiot not to be grateful to the Brotherhood for helping her to avoid contact with Pietro, but when push came to shove he was still too fast for them.  She heaved a deep sigh, knowing that it wouldn't matter if she ran away or walked, Pietro would track her down.  She could just try to prolong the conversation and hope that Lance and the crew had realized that Pietro'd lost them.  The two of them sat down in front of her locker.

            "Whatcha been up to?" Pietro asked.  Rogue laughed.

            "Running from you mostly."

            Pietro laughed, but it wasn't the same laugh that it had been.

            "I miss you, you know that?"

            "I know, but touching me doesn't help that!"

            "Wouldn't you miss me if I stopped?"

            "Of course I would."

            Pietro sighed and rested his head on her covered shoulder.

            "You're wrong you know.  At least when I touch you, I spend a while unconscious.  It's kinda hard to miss you when I'm asleep."

            "We could be friends, you know," Rogue replied.  Pietro smiled, shaking his head against her shoulder.  

            "I'm a selfish soul, stripes," he replied.  "Tell that bald headed egomaniac leader of yours to get cracking on some kind of a way to control your powers.  It's hard to miss you while I'm asleep, not impossible."

            "There he is, yo!"  Todd shouted from the far end of the hall. 

            "Uh oh," Pietro said.  "Tag time."  With that, he reached up and touched her face; by the time the Brotherhood got to him, he was out cold.  

            "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Tabby ranted, glaring at Pietro and kicking his unconscious self in the shin.

_Hey hey hey!!  That better not bruise, missy!  _

"Sorry Rogue," Freddy shrugged.  Todd, meanwhile, had grabbed Pietro by the collar and was shaking his unconscious body furiously.

"Why the hell don't you listen, yo?  We gotta put a fuckin' lo-jack on your ass!"  

Lance picked up Pietro and hucked him over his shoulder in the fireman's carry.

"Okay, chasing him around isn't working.  It's time for plan B."

_Plan B?  What's plan B?_

_I dunno,_  Rogue thought back as the Brotherhood walked away.  Rogue cocked her head to one side. _Y'know, if Billy the Kid rode with a fat kid, a blonde chick, and a toad-boy, it might look a lot like that…_

_If you say so.  I wonder what they're gonna do to me?_

_No clue… wanna play Scrabble?_

_Sure!_

Pietro awoke to find himself tied to his bed.  Well, not really tied- Lance and Todd had spent over forty minutes winding rolls of duct tape around both boy and bed.  

Lance stood at the foot of the bed, flanked by Tabby and Todd, backed by Freddy.

"Um, guys, I'm all for kinky," Pietro said, "but you know I'm off the market-"

"Pietro," Lance said, taking a deep breath.  "This is an intervention."

AN:  Next chapter: The Intervention.  Pietro's clearly not going anywhere for a little while…


	14. The Brotherhood's One-Step Recovery prog...

AN:  Okay, I forget what chapter we're up to.  Anyway.  In this chapter, the plot moves forward.  I'm thinkin' there's maybe two, three chapters left in this puppy, though I've got a couple other stories in mind.  Enjoy!

"You're kidding," Pietro said as his friends sat down.  Freddy sprawled on the beanbag chair, Tabby perched on his dresser, Todd on his desk, and Lance picked up the desk chair and straddled the back, glaring grimly at Pietro.

"The hell I am," Lance snapped.  "We've tried to reason with you.  We've tried to chase you down.  We've tried kicking your unconscious ass.  So now, we're back to reasoning with you, but as you can see, you're now taped to a bed."

"I noticed that."

"Yeah, well you're a smart boy, Pietro," Tabby said, "which is why you're gonna listen to us this time."

"We didn't wanna tell you, yo…"

"But every time you touch Rogue…" Freddy continued.

"Just so you guys know, it is _really_ annoying when you talk in tandem like that!"  Pietro said, shutting up as he heard Lance's completion of the sentence.

"She fades away a little more."

Pietro looked at him.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"  The sadness in Lance's face only made Pietro angrier as his gaze darted from the face of one friend to the next.  Tabby wouldn't look at him, Todd's gaze was reproachful and intense, Freddy's expression flat and dejected.  Lance looked so tired, which was no wonder.  After all, Lance always put everything right.

"Whenever you're in Rogue's head, she'll slip every now and then.  She'll say something I only ever hear you say, or she'll smile your smile, or laugh your laugh."

"So?  God, we've picked up tons of stuff from each other!  Lance, we had to smack you nonstop for two weeks to get you to stop saying 'yo' at the end of your sentences!"  Pietro protested, twisting in his prison of tape.

"It's more than that, Quickie," Tabby said, not unsympathetically.  "There'll be no trace of her at all.  We didn't think much of it…"

"But it happens more and more often now than it did when you two first started this weird thing of yours," Lance finished.  "Whenever you're in her head she's only there about half the time, sometimes less."

"It's freaky, yo… It's like your ego's so big that it's actually eating hers," Todd added, something that might have been funny if it hadn't been true this time.  

"We didn't want to tell you," Tabby said.

"You said that already," Pietro grumbled.  "You had to tape me to a bed to tell me this?"

"Would you have held still long enough to listen otherwise?"  Tabby asked.  Pietro glared.

"My sheets are gonna be all covered in tape-goo now."

"All of you shut up," Lance snapped.  "Now you've got two choices.  You can either fuckin' behave yourself and keep your hands off of Rogue, or you can lie here till she graduates."

"I won't touch her anymore."

"You answered awful fast-" Tabby said.

"Don't you fuckin' start!" Pietro shouted.  "Do _not _start!  Jesus, I spent all this time trying to convince the Rogue I wasn't shallow and I shoulda been trying to convince you guys!  Why the hell would I ever want to hurt her?  She's the only person I've ever met capable of truly understanding another fucking person without wanting to change them, and you think I'd keep touching her even if I knew thathavingmeinherheadwaschanging_her_?"  he ranted, speeding up the angrier he got.  "Godyouguysaresostupidsometimes,it'ssoobviousI_love_herthateven_she _probablyknowsitforgodssakes-  whatareyoudoing?!!"

Lance had taken out his pocket knife and was sawing through the tape on the underside of the bed.

"I'm cutting you loose, jackass."  

The Brotherhood collectively picked Pietro free from his tapey tomb and helped him up.  He noticed that one of them had put him in a shirt saying "Out of body, back in five minutes."  _Wiseasses, _he thought, but his heart wasn't in it.  He sat on the edge of his bed and sighed, looking so sorrowful that Tabby felt guilty.

"Look…" she started.  She took a breath and tried again.  "Look, Quickie, they're havin' another dance in a week, what with Sadie Hawkins getting crashed by weird little dinosaur things.  Ask Rogue, have a last date, get some closure.  Do somethin' normal people do.  It'll make it easier."

"No it won't," Pietro replied.

"No, it won't," Tabby admitted.  "But you'll be glad you did it anyway."

            Jean was bored out of her supernaturally gifted mind.  Her homework was done, there was nothing to watch on TV, she'd just given up on the mystery novel she'd been reading after she accidentally gleaned from someone's head who killed the Duchess.  Bored.  Bored.  Bored.  Now what the hell was she going to do, talk to _Duncan?_

            A very soft tap came through the wood of her door.  "Jean?"

            "Come in!" she said.  Rogue stepped through the door, looking dejected and depressed.

            "Hey Rogue, what's up?"  Jean said, sitting up in bed.  Rogue plunked down on the foot of it and bit her lower lip.

            "Kitty just got a call from Lance.  Pietro won't be botherin' me no more."

            "Oh!" Jeans said cheerfully.  Rogue looked at her, green eyes brimming with tears, and Jean got the message.  "Oh…"

            "Yeah.  It gets better… worse… whatever."

            "How?"

            "Pietro wants me to go to the "Didn't Anybody See Jurassic Park?" Dance with him.  A last date, in real life, kinda like normal people."

            "Are you gonna go?"

            "Wouldn't miss it for the world," Rogue said.  "But I wanna give him something… are you gonna go to the dance?"

            "I thought I might.  Scott's showing every sign of turning into a tolerable human being, I thought I might ask him.  But what do you mean, 'give Pietro something?'"

            Rogue took a deep breath.  

            "Do you think you can show him my memories of the past few weeks?  I really want him to know what happened, it's not the sorta think I can really describe to him.  Technically we were just hanging out, but it was so much more than that, and-"

            "I understand, Rogue.  Sure.  I think I can do that…" Jean looked perplexed.  "I've never tried it, but it seems doable…"  Jean thought about the process: she'd have to form a link between the two, then act as something of an aqueduct.  But she could figure that out on her own.

            "So," she asked, ruffling Rogue's hair carefully.  "What are you gonna wear?"

AN:  In the next chapter, there will be shopping, there will be fashion, and there will be great preparations made for the "Didn't Anybody See Jurassic Park?" Dance.  We'll see how it goes.


	15. Mutant Fairy Tale Theater

AN: Okay, this is it, the last gala chapter.  Pietro's kinda outta character, but consider his circumstances.  I could not for the life of me find/remember Forge's name, so we're just callin' him Forge.  Last set of disclaimers: I don't own Scrabble (still). or Hot Topic, Def Leopard or Patsy Cline.  Some of the info on Pietro's powers in this chapter was gleaned from the book "The Science of X-Men" which is pretty nifty if you're into such things.  Thanks to everyone who's read this, sorry for my recent lapses in updating, and have a lovely day.  

            That Wednesday, Rogue tried on a few dresses at Hot Topic, but without satisfaction.  There was one that she and Risty had liked, but Kitty and Jean said it made her look like a dominatrix, and there was one that those two had liked, but it was too gauzy for her tastes, and Risty said it made her look helpless.  

            "Like, that's the whole point!  You look helpless, lull them into a false sense of security, and then like pounce!"

            "Kitty Pryde!  I'm surprised at you!" Rogue cried with false maternal indignation.  Jean snorted.

            "I'm not.  Come on, it's a big mall."

            They trudged along, Risty, Jean and Kitty chatting, Rogue occasionally joining in, but mostly engaged in more introspective thought.  Jean and Risty had started up a spirited argument about the merits of school-sponsored athletics, and Kitty fell back, walking by Rogue's side.

            "Hey.  How you doing?"  Kitty asked.  Rogue shrugged helplessly.

            "I dunno.  I'm trying not to think about the fact that, y'know… this means it's really over."

            "You nervous?"

            "I really am."

            Kitty reached up and squeezed Rogue's shoulders in a half-hug.

            "Lance says Pietro is too.  He'll be 'unusually and unnaturally quiet' for like three hours, and then zip around like lightning for twenty minutes throwing every piece of clothing he has around the room.  Oh, he wants to know what color you're wearing as soon as you pick out your dress, so he can make sure he's not gonna clash with you."

            Rogue rolled her eyes.

            "That's my Quicksilver.  Seriously, what are the chances of that?"

            "Um… you wore orange to the last dance, Rogue, it doesn't go with a whole lot…"

            "…oh yeah."

            They stopped as Risty and Jean darted into the lingerie shop.

            "Ah jeez, I'm _definitely _not going to the dance in my underwear."

            "That's not what we had in mind you stripe-headed lunatic!" Risty said, swatting at Rogue's head.  Risty pointed at a dress form on a table surrounded by bras.  It was off the shoulder, long sleeved, made entirely of lace over sheer flesh colored material, came down to just above the knees.  

            "I thought you could only get that out of the catalog," Jean said.  

            "Normally, yeah," a passing sales girl said.  "but some lady insisted on returning it here.  It's on clearance, too," she said helpfully.

            "_Real_ly," Risty said with a broad smile.  

            "Yup!  My name is Shannon if you need any help."

            "We do, Shannon," Risty said.  "My friend here would like to try this on."

            Ten minutes later, Rogue was walking out of the store, dress, stockings, and all other necessary accessories in bags and paid for.  Kitty had informed Lance of the color of the dress, and this information was passed onto Pietro, who expressed approval and then locked himself in his room for the rest of the day.  Jean and Kitty refused to let Rogue go home until she bought shoes, Rogue and Risty having lost the debate as to whether or not combat boots constituted dress shoes.  Rogue's attempt at high heels was a failed experiment, nearly breaking her ankles on the stilettos that Kitty had picked out for her.  She wound up with a pair of thicker heeled Mary Janes, which suited her better anyway.  All that remained now was to wait until the Friday of the dance.  

            Across town, in his locked room, Pietro was sewing like a maniac.  Rogue would be there in black lace.  Perfect.  If she came in something so textured, he'd have to come in something smooth, and so he sat there sewing furiously, the material in his hands silk as cold a white as his hair.  Suits were easy for him, he knew his own measurements, and had a knack for clothes, various cuts and lines.  Sometimes he figured that was the real reason he was so popular with the girls at school- his clothes actually _fit, _not in the off the rack way, but in the specifically designed to be close-fitting or loose in all the right places way.  _Rogue looks good no matter what she wears, _he thought, and immediately stuck his finger with the needle for his lack of concentration.  He stuck it in his mouth, sullenly sitting back and feeling irritated, partly with himself for falling in love with a girl he couldn't touch, mostly with Xavier and McCoy for not having put their oh-so-amazing brains to good use and sorting out the problem.  He resumed his sewing, slower this time.  He wondered if he should make gloves for himself, to put Rogue more at ease.  No, that would ruing the whole attempt at normality.  He was actually surprised she'd even agreed to go to this dance with him, though the two of them hadn't spoken since his 'intervention.'  Even though he'd spent the majority of the relationship unconscious, being with Rogue had changed so much for Pietro.  Just the very presence of an addition to his life was astounding.  

            Most of his life had been devoted to proving that he deserved every ounce of his own arrogance, to proving that he was the best of the best.  Then Daniels came along and threatened that status in the single arena of basketball, and his focus honed in on regaining his supremacy.  Then Magneto had scooped him out of jail and dropped him into the Brotherhood, and his whole world became fighting the X-Men, establishing mutant supremacy over humanity.

            Then that all went to hell, and lo and behold, it was just the five of them: Lance, Tabby, Todd, Freddy and himself.  Without Mystique and Magneto around to threaten them into supporting an ideology they regained some sanity and started feeling like teenagers again.  They may have all had various feelings of various strength regarding politics, human-mutant relations, etc., but they were also ranging in age from fourteen to eighteen, and had all the concerns besetting those of that age group.  Pietro's concern became his newfound family, the Brotherhood, and their daily survival.

            Now his primary concern was about to be lost: A strange, charming girl who probably knew him better than he knew himself, whose touch laid him out for hours or days, whose anger turned him on in the worst way, whose sorrow made him feel like his insides were bleeding, whose smile made him feel like he could fly.  He finished up his suit, brushing the white material of the jacket smooth as hung it up over the slacks and vest.  He smirked to himself.  He was probably the only sophomore he knew who could pull off a three piece silk suit.  He turned in response to a knock at the door.

            "Come in," he called.  Lance opened the door and looked around.

            "Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go shopping, but it looks like you've got it covered."

            "Not quite.  I need buttons for the vest."

            "You're wearing a vest?"  Lance said, arching his eyebrow.  Pietro favored Lance with one of his trademark grins, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

            "If you've got it, flaunt it, Rocky."

            "Got what, a torso?  Forget it, you need a ride?"  Lance asked, dangling his keys.  Normally, Pietro declined such offers, preferring to run everyplace, which was quicker than driving no matter who was behind the wheel, but today, he didn't much feel like braving the fabric store alone.  There were a couple little old ladies who'd taken to pinching his cheeks every time he showed up alone.  _I should bring Rogue in with me next time, _he thought, _I doubt she'd take kindly to anyone pawing at me no matter how old they were.  _But then he remembered that Friday would be the last time he'd take her anywhere.  

            "Yeah, if you don't mind," Pietro answered at last, hoping Lance would be a cheek-pinching deterrent.  In the Jeep on the way, Lance cleared his throat.

            "You been really quiet the past couple days, man.  You all right?"

            Pietro gave Lance a half hearted smile.

            "Pretty far from all right, Lance.  God, I coulda sworn I was doing something right for once, and then I find out, nope, pretty much fucking things up further."

            "It's pretty unfair," Lance shrugged, a little uncomfortable with Pietro's sudden openness, not to mention the depression that slowed down the fastest boy in the world quite a bit.  Pietro's words came out slower than normal, more resigned.

            "I always thought I could force life to be fair to me.  I was sure there was no situation I couldn't make the best of.  I even thought I could force life to be fair to Rogue."

            "Maybe it will be someday."

            "This is it, turn right at the light."

            Lance followed Pietro into this most unfamiliar territory, and saw the shocking truth about the lengths to which Pietro went to look good.

            "Heyyyyyyy!  It's Petey!"

            "Brace yourself," Petey muttered to Lance.  Lance was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about when a terrifying woman descended on them.  She had blue-black hair done up in a style startlingly close to a bee-hive, was chewing gum, looked to be in her late forties or early fifties, and was wearing lipstick in a shade of red-orange which Lance had never seen in nature.  She grabbed Pietro by the face and squished his cheeks, muttering baby talk at him.  _Oh my god, _Lance thought.  _Oh my god.  Oh my god.  Oh my god._

"Mary, it's Petey!" the woman bellowed over to the cash registers.  "Where you been kiddo, we ain't seen you in ages!"

            "Busy, you know, school," Pietro replied in tones more frayed than his usual fast-talking smoothness.  

            "Ahh, and who's your friend here, whaaaaaaat a _cutie, _my god he looks just like James Dean, doesn't he look just like James Dean, Mary?"

            "The boy looks nothing like James Dean, Lois, just like Petey looks nothing like Paul Newman did when he was a kid!" a much more cynical voice called from the registers.  "Now would you let the kid shop for godssakes?"

            "Ah, you're no fun, Mar," Lois called back.  "Ah kay Petey, I guess you get to go about your business.  Run along!"

            Pietro and Lance walked away from the terrifying Lois, quickly, but not too quickly lest they show their fear.

            "What the hell was _that?_" Lance whispered once they were safely in the button aisle.  Pietro rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

            "That was Lois.  She's the matron aunt I never had."

            "I didn't know you wanted one."

            "I never said I did.  Still, beats my actual family members in spades.  Hey, these are nice," he said, scooping up some mother of pearl buttons.  "That'll go nice with the white."  He quickly ushered Lance to the checkout, where they got to see Mary up close.  She was a very thin old lady, but her blue eyes were clear and sharp, the tilt of her lips a sarcastic smirk.

            "Whatcha makin' now, kiddo, drapes?" she asked dryly.

            "Nope.  Suit."

            "Getting' hitched?"

            "I wish.  No, not today, just a date."  Mary's eyebrow arched, conveying her skepticism as she accepted his money.  

            "Just a date?  I've never seen you make a suit before, kid."

            "Well, maybe not _just _a date, Mar.  Who knows, maybe I'll be back next week making an especially low-cut wedding dress," he said, waggling his eyebrows as he and Lance made their way out.  

            "And _that?_" Lance asked as they got outside.

            "That was Mary, the cynical grouchy grandmother I never had.  So how are things going with you and the Pryde of Bayville?"

            Lance blinked, startled at the sudden change of topic.  The only interest the others ever had in his relationship with Kitty was mocking him about it.

            "Um… it's going really well actually," Lance said, unsure of what answer Pietro was looking for.  Pietro just nodded, looking distant, and replied.

            "That's good."  There was a long pause, Lance growing more and more uncomfortable.  

            "I'm really sorry about this, yo," he blurted to break the silence.  Pietro rolled his eyes and smiled ruefully.

            "Lance, Lance, Lance.  Don't start stealing Todd's catch phrase again, all right?  I'm too depressed to smack you."

            Lance sighed, shoving his hair out of his face.

            "It still might work out, Pietro," he said.

            "Hope springs eternal, eh Rocky?"

            "It should, Speedy," Lance said as they pulled into the driveway.  "My girlfriend walks through walls, we live with the frog prince, a fairy tale ending can't be too damn far off from where we are now."

            When Friday at last arrived, the school day drifted by for both Pietro and Rogue, both beset by tension and anticipation which was flavored with despair.  Kitty had insisted that Rogue take advantage of the school's offer to allow students to leave after lunch to get ready, and Rogue had a feeling her makeup would be at issue.  She stood looking at the mirror in her locker.  She sighed.  Never had Goth makeup been more appropriate than it would be tonight, and tonight was the one night she wouldn't be allowed.  She shut the locker door, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watching her, leaning on his shoulder against the rows, his head resting on the metal, face sad, serene and steady.  She wanted what she always wanted, which was to run up and tackle him, hold him and kiss him, but really, what else was new.  He looked long at her, then stood and walked up.  

            "Hi," he said.

            "Hi," Rogue said, self-consciously brushing her hair out of her eyes.

            "Lance told me that Kitty and Jean are throwing a little pre-dance party thing over at the mansion."

            "Yeah, um…"

            "Do you mind if I…?"

            "No,"  Rogue felt her heart wrench as Pietro looked crushed.

            "No?"  

            "I mean- wait.  Do I mind if you come?"

            "Yes, cause I'd really like to get pictures at least…"

            "No.  No I don't mind."  

            "So… I'll see you tonight?"

            "Of course," Rogue replied.  She couldn't help it, she reached up and touched his face with her gloved hand, and he leaned into the touch, smiling.  

            "Don't give up on me, okay stripes?"  he said.  "That's all I ask."

            "I think I can manage that."

            "I don't know whether to smile or cry," Kitty said as Rogue and Pietro parted.  Lance rubbed the small of her back as both looked on.

            "I know what you mean.  Come on, let's get you home, kiddo.  I gotta make sure Pietro doesn't kill himself, you gotta get Rogue in a dress.  We both got our work cut out for us."

            Arriving back at the mansion, Kitty and Jean each grabbed one of Rogue's elbows and put her in Jean's room, got themselves dressed and made up in a flurry of activity, then moved on to Rogue.  Two black combs held her hair away from her face, the dress clinging to her shoulders and stopping in the middle of her forearms, small black gloves covering her hands.  Now she sat in the chair, terrified for her life as she looked over the implements Jean had laid out in front of her.  More frightening still was the fact that Jean flat out refused to use her hands.

            "Jean, this is scary!"  Rogue said as tiny brushes flew at her from all angles.

            "Well if I use my hands I can't see what I'm doing!" Jean protested.  "Now hold _still_."

            When Rogue looked in the mirror, she saw that Jean had taken her Goth look and turned it on its edge.  Her face was still pale, eyes and lips still dark, but rather than looking like a ghoul she looked like a silent film star.  

            "You sure this doesn't make me look helpless?" Rogue asked.  Jean smiled.

            "I think the word you're looking for is pretty.  They're not necessarily synonymous."  Kitty ran through the door, beaming.  

            "They're here!"  she giggled, jumping up and down.   Rogue took a deep breath, stood up and headed for the stairs.

            Pietro and Lance sat on the loveseat, facing down quite the panel: McCoy, Xavier, Summers and god help them Logan.

            "You sober, kid?"  Logan growled at Lance.  "And by sober I mean you haven't laid a finger on anything fermented in the past 48 hours."

            "Yes sir, cold sober sir," Lance replied.  Logan nodded.

            "You better smell the same way when you get home, Rocky, or I'll have to ruin that nice suit of yours."

            Pietro suppressed a chuckle as Lance paled, which of course earned him Logan's immediate attention.  

            "Somethin' funny, blondie?"  Pietro shook his head.  "Good.  Cause if Rogue runs home carrying your ass and talking like a speed freak, I'm gonna gut your comatose corpse."

            "If you're done threatening the boys, Logan, I believe the ladies are ready," McCoy said, looking at the stair case behind them.  Pietro leapt up, darting to the bottom of the stairs before the sentence was even complete.  The tension was palpable as Kitty, too impatient to take the stairs to see Lance, phased directly through them and leapt on him in a big hug.

            "Wow Lance, you look _so _nice!"

            "You're quite a looker yourself, Miss Pryde!" Lance smiled, picking her up and spinning her around.  Jean came down the stairs with more grace, extending her hand into the air, Scott racing to take it.  Pietro's patience was wearing thin when he saw Rogue at the top of the stairs.  It was the first time he'd been able to clearly see her face without pushing her hair aside.  It seemed to take a lifetime for her to get down the stairs to him, but he would not have sped it up for anything, as she slowly approached, pale and dark, textured and smooth.

            "You look really amazing," Rogue said softly, taking one of her gloves off to touch his suit.  "Wow… it's so soft."

            "Not as soft as you, my angel," Pietro replied suavely, grabbing her still gloved hand and kissing it.  Hell, one of them had to break the tension, and the best way he knew how to put Rogue at ease was to be himself.  Her face broke into a smile as he gave her his arm and they joined the other four.  

            "Wow, Rogue, you look really different," Scott said.  He shut up as Jean telekinetically pinched his butt, her face as impassive as the sphinx.  

            "She looks ravishable," Pietro purred.  "Ing.  Ravishing," he amended as Lance smacked him upside the head.  

            "You got film in that thing, Chuck?" Logan asked as the three adults began their barrage of flashes and clicks.  Eventually they were allowed to leave.

            "So whose car are we taking?"  Kitty asked.  Scott balked at the suggestion that they'd be taking any car other than his, and the argument ensued.  

            "Quick question, Rogue," Pietro asked as Lance and Scott postured.

            "What?"

            "How stable is your hairstyle?"

            "Pretty stable, wh-"  Pietro didn't need to hear anymore, he just took off his jacket and held it out to her.  Perplexed, she put it on, yelping as he swept her off her feet.

            "Lance, Summers, we'll meet you there," Pietro smiled, and took off.  Scott sighed and Lance smacked his forehead.

            "Well, we walked right into that one," Lance said.  "Come on Summers, we'll take your little toy car.  Just try not to drive like my grandmother, all right?"

            Pietro came to a halt at the edge of the school grounds and set Rogue down gently.

            "Hope that wasn't too blustery for you," he said, smoothing his suit, then her hair.  Rogue handed him his jacket back with a smile.

            "Only way to fly," Rogue smiled, slipping her arm through his and walking into the school.  It was a lot like the last dance, really, except there weren't any dinosaurs, and Rogue had a date.

            "You look perplexed," Pietro said.  "What's up?"

            "The music," Rogue said.  "It's not as terrible as it usually is at these things…"  Rogue looked over at the D.J. station and saw why.

            "_Forge?!_" she exclaimed.  Sure enough, Forge was spinning, and who was lingering next to him but Risty, who waved wildly on seeing her.

            "Hey there, Pietro, I thought you were taking Rogue to the dance, I don't recognize this femme fatale!" Risty grinned.

            "I thought you said you weren't coming!" Rogue cried as she leaned over the table to give Risty a hug.  

            "Well, Forge asked if I'd keep him company while he spins, and god knows someone had to keep this from turning into a disco inferno or a Woodstock 2002 or something.  That and he's just so cute, the little flower child," Risty grinned, bumping Forge with her hip.

            "Who you callin' cute, Eurotrash?"  he said, grabbing her and giving her a noogie.  "Any requests?" he asked over Risty's yelps.

            "I got one," Pietro grinned, leaning over the table and whispering to Forge.

            "Oh, I _love _that song!"

            "Not yet, wait till later, okay?"  Pietro said.  Forge nodded and waved them away.  

            "I just hope that wasn't Def Leopard you requested," Rogue said, poking Pietro in the side.  

            "Nah," Pietro said, kissing the back of her gloved hand.  "I wouldn't do anything to ruin this."

            They danced happily, undisturbed until Kitty, Jean, Lance and Scott arrived, and Jean tapped Rogue on the shoulder.  

            "I believe we have an appointment?" she said.  Rogue took a deep breath and followed, and Pietro followed after, eyebrow arched.  Kitty came along and phased all of them into a locked classroom, the room where Rogue usually had English.  The moon was about three quarters full, the cold light pouring into the room.  Jean was struck dumb by the image as she turned back to Pietro and Rogue.  The blue white of the moonlight made him look like an ice sculpture, with his blue eyes and snow white suit and hair.  Rogue looked like a ghost or an angel, the black dress striking against her skin.  They both looked vulnerable, and though she wasn't much older, at that moment they looked painfully young to Jean.  Far too young to be having such a burden placed on them by life.  

            "Well," she said after a moment.  "I hope I know what I'm doing."  

            "Jean's gonna show you what it was like when we were together," Rogue explained.  "I mean, if you want to…"

            Pietro's face lit up like a chandelier.

            "Of course I do!"  he looked at Jean.  "You can really do that?"

            Jean smiled nervously.

            "In theory.  I've never tried it before… we should probably sit down.  You two face each other, okay?  This is probably gonna feel weird.  Um… keep your eyes open, and maintain eye contact, it'll probably make things go smoother."

            "It wasn't all wonderful, Pietro, there were some nightmares too…" Rogue said, swallowing hard.  He smiled so sweetly that she could have sworn her heart stopped.

            "Do I have to say something romantic, or will you just believe I have to see?"

            Jean smiled.  With a little training, maybe she could get Scott to be close to that sweet.  She put one hand on the top of Rogue's head and the other on Pietro's.

            "Here goes nothing," she said.

            Pietro's resting pulse was twenty five beats per second, but as the past few weeks flooded into his head, he could swear it sped up to five hundred, or maybe it stopped.  _Sometimes going a million miles an hour feels just like standing still, _he thought.  

            He saw Rogue's initial irritation with his presence, but even then there was a warmth.  He saw the first nightmare, the one he'd engineered, saw Rogue's jealousy of Jean and Scott and their simple ability to touch.  He saw the naughty Gothic erotica she indulged in, and the longing that lay behind it, her embarrassment at his knowledge.  He saw her fear at the idea that he could see into her head and find out what she thought, did, dreamed, and could barely believe that in a couple short weeks she was ready to show him it all.  He saw the initial reaction of disbelief and annoyance with which she viewed his request for a date, but he could sense underlying pain there, and felt slightly guilty that it had happened that way, that he'd initially asked her out so that she would have a better opinion of him.  It was those protests that had won him over more fully, that had changed his egocentric wish into one focusing more on spending time with her.  He saw the mosaic of mixed emotions he'd triggered when he started calling her his girlfriend, the way she'd been slightly turned on when she caught him looking up her skirt.  He felt the point where everything had turned around, that moment of understanding when she'd brought him up to her room, after the first time he touched her on purpose.  

            _Without all the words getting in the way…  _He saw her using his powers, and felt how novel feeling free was to her, who usually faced so many restrictions.  He watched her stand up to Summers, and then watched her try to kill Summers until Jean intervened in the best possible way.  He saw the hell he'd put her through while they were on a caffeine high, he saw all the little treasures he'd found in her mind.  It was like they'd spent a lifetime together already, for all the memories they had to show.  He'd shown her how to run up walls, and in the danger room they played together, using his powers to wind down.  He saw with relief the brief life and crashing death of Rogue's crush on Scott, their mutual understanding of the futility of fighting when nothing seemed to change no matter how many battles they had.  He savored the memory of her taking a shower, running her razor over legs which so rarely saw sunlight.  He saw their Scrabble game, and shivered at how close they'd come to kissing in that perfect, perfect world.  He felt the twisting in her heart that arose when she realized how close she'd become to him in her mind, and that when he woke he would not remember.  

            Then he saw the nightmare.  Mystique, Rogue's mother.  Magneto, his father.  That damned slide show… Wanda…  _two lost kids with an evil parent and a long-lost twin,_ Pietro thought.  _How's that for coincidence.  _He saw how Rogue had sobbed in Jean's arms, the dream terrifying her.  He saw her talking to the professor, felt the fear she felt- god, his own father was the most powerful mutant alive, and he never seemed to run out of 'plans' for Pietro.  He felt Rogue's hope, which echoed his own, that Mystique and Magneto were really dead and gone, never to come calling again.  There were his own memories, seeing her again after the 'lost weekend' as she kept calling it, seeing the sorrow in her face and wondering what the hell he'd done to her, his partial relief finding out that she liked him, that she'd had fun with him, and then realized that was the only way she could be happy, to have him with her in her head, since she couldn't touch him outside of it.  Touching her again.  Thinking Logan might kill him.  Seeing her touching his unconscious face and being pretty certain it was love.  It all came flooding back, then the flood slowed, until all that came across the connection was love, and then it was gone.  

            Jean didn't need to ask if it had worked.  One look at their faces was enough to assure her it certainly had.  She stood, and walked to the door, leaving the two of them alone.  From the speakers a room away, they could hear Forge's voice on the P.A.  

            "This one is a request from Pietro Maximoff, just proving that _some _people born after 1975 can actually recognize a good song."

            The strains of the music started, and Pietro smiled.

            "They're playing our song, stripes."

_"Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely…" _the song crept into the room,_ "I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue…"_

His hummingbird-fast heart broke in his chest as her eyes filled with tears.

"God, don't cry, please, sweetheart…" he said, pulling her towards him.  She let him take her awkwardly in his arms and she shut her eyes against the tears that threatened as the music played on

_"… for somebody new…. Worry, why do I let myself worry?  Wond'ring, what in the world did I do?   Oh crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you!"  _Rogue pulled slowly away, her eyes shining but not yet overflowing.  Pietro stroked her hair, and they stared at each other in silence again, until Pietro couldn't take anymore.  

"Rogue, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"This," he said, leaned forward and kissed her. 

"_I'm crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin', and I'm crazy for loving you."_

She kissed him back, his lips warm and sweet as his arms crept around her waist.

_"Crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you, I'm crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin' and I'm crazy for loving you…"_

Her hands tangled in his hair and then finally her pleasure gave way to a question.  _Why is he still conscious? _Pietro broke the kiss and stared at her incredulously.

"Why are you still conscious?" she asked out loud.

"I don't care," he said back, and kissed her again.  

Logan lifted the edge of the curtains and peered outside, just reassuring himself that all Pietro and Rogue were doing in the back of Scott's car was kissing.  

"Jesus, he knows she still needs oxygen, right?"  he grumbled.

Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy both smiled at each other and at Logan's fatherly grumbling.

"I'm just perplexed as to how this happened, Hank," Xavier mused.  

"I think it's a question of homeopathic immunity, Charles," McCoy replied.  "From what I've been able to discern, Rogue's DNA is interesting indeed.  Her X-Factor gene is permanently unstable, and constantly in search of data to fill in the blanks.  The boy kept touching Rogue over and over again, with a small time lapse between regaining consciousness and touching her again.  Like someone who takes small doses of poison and survives, each has become essentially immune to the other.  Rogue's DNA has memorized the alleles which give Pietro his speed, stamina, and physiological advantages like bone strength and thus no longer needs to absorb them.  I wouldn't be surprised if she could deliberately manifest his powers now."

"Intriguing," Xavier replied.  Logan just growled, still peering out the window.  

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Charles, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Xavier momentarily thought about his philosophy, a world where humans and mutants lived in peace, and then thought about the two young mutants kissing in the chill early Spring air.

"I don't know about that, Hank," he smiled.


End file.
